And if I Say No?
by Jemina
Summary: Enter Fury, more a story to develp character relationships. People's pasts come into play and more new students are introduced. Sequel to FOH First Confrontation.
1. Eighteen Two One

Eighteen Two One 

Remy knelt beside Psyc, _Non,_ he thought. _Dis can' be 'appenin'._

"Remy?" Jazzes voice came over the radio. "What do you mean?"

"She isn' breathin'" he told her. "An' 'er 'eart stop'."

"Remy," Jazz paused. "Do you know C.P.R.?"

"Oui."

"Well, do it you idiot!" Jazz screamed.

Remy dropped the radio and leaned over Psyc to breath in her mouth. He pulled away, placed his hand right blow her sternum and have three quick, firm pushes. He blew more air in her lungs, and then repeated the process. After a minute, Psyc took a ragged breath, but didn't open her eyes.

Remy picked up the radio.

"Jazz, she's breathin' 'gain bu' she still ou' col'."

"Okay, get her back here however you can, screw the plan of not being seen. Just get her back here."

"Bien. My t'oughts 'xacly."

He slipped one of his arms under her back and the other behind her knees, and then stood up cradling her to him.

"Righ', now say good-bye t' our gracious 'osts?"

He turned and started for the door, which he had left open. Once they were in the hall, Remy shifted Psyc to where he could hold her with one arm. He did not, however, cease or change his stride. He continued to walk as if he wasn't afraid of anything and he wasn't. He was willing to blow up the entire complex if it meant getting Larla-Rose out of there. He hadn't gone more then ten steps when the power came back on, and shortly, the alarm sounded.

"Ge' out o' my way," he said with steal in his voice and his eyes glowing so you could see the red even behind his sunglasses. "I don' wanna hur' yo', ac'u'lly I do bu' i's'a waist of my time. So move!"

"Hey!" one of the people in front of him said. "You're from New York! You used to go to meetings with Logan!"

_Goo' ting Logan pull' ou' las' nigh'_ Remy thought before flashing them his most charming smile.

"Oui, I am, and unfortunately fo' yo' I been deal' a killer 'and."

Remy turned his fan of cards around to show a royal flush of hearts, right before he launched one at each of the people in front of him.

"Well, de knock-ou' 'and a' leas'."

Remy continued down the hall. He ran into a few more people here and there. Most had the sense to run when his eyes and his cards start to glow…those who didn't? They go to meet first the cards, then the wall.

When Remy finally got out in the open he looked around. He and Jazz he taken the bus to get here so they didn't draw attention, now he needed a faster way back to the motel. His eyes fell on Logan's motorcycle.

_Pr'ly no' de mos' legal way, bu' it be de fas'es'."_

Remy rode at top speed for the motel. It was quite a sight for those who saw it. Remy was flying by at 120 with a battered Psyc seemingly asleep sitting sideways between his arms leaning against his chest. When they got to the motel, Remy stopped so suddenly that the bike swung sideways in the spot.

"Jazz!" he yelled as he dismounted.

"Over here," Jazz called as she stepped out of a vehicle. "Good, you brought the bike. Put Psyc inside and help me put the bike in the back."

Remy nodded and turned toward the room. He laid Psyc down on the couch that for the past two days had been his bed and then he knelt there for a minute, and then tucked the hair that had fallen into her face behind her ear.

"Yo' gon' be 'kay, Lar," Remy said placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "Remy make shore of dat."

As he stood up, the door to the second room opened.

"Remy?" an unsure voice whispered.

Remy turned to face Sherry.

"Oui, cherie. 's Remy."

Sherry grinned and ran toward him. Remy dropped down on one knee and pulled her into a tight embrace. Unfortunately, this made it where Sherry could see Psyc laying on the couch. Sherry gasped at the sight of the person she had come to think of as her new mom laying on the couch. Sherry pulled away from Remy and went to stand by Psyc. What she saw scared her. Psyc's clothes were torn and now didn't even deserve the term 'rag'. Her skin, which normally ranged from fair to golden brown, was now a myriad of colors that all melted together as if someone had dumped paint on her. Her hair could no longer be described as obsidian with fire bangs, now it looked more like lave, black, with red that was not her bangs, swirled in. Silent tears began to fall down Sherry's cheeks. She crawled onto the couch and snuggled as close to Psyc as she could. She never even noticed when Remy left.

"An' wha'," Remy asked, "do yo' call dis monstrocity?"

Jazz looked at him.

"It's a school bus Remy."

"I know tha'. Why d' yo' 'ave it an' where di' yo' get it?"

"I have it because we have eighteen little kids, you, me an unconscious Psyc and my brother's bike to get back to New York. I got it from the school bus yard. Xavier want us back as soon as possible so I'm gonna go call in a few favors so I can have this thing modified by morning. I put the kids to sleep, which was way too easy; by the way, they're in my room. With my luck they won't wake up 'til I get back so they don't drive you inane…"

"Jazz!" he interrupted. "I'm the one who takes care of kids, remember? Remy knows wha' he doin' so go get dis ting ready."

"Sorry, I'm stressin', I mean I hate kids, you know I hate kids! But the way they lived, when I opened the door, Sherry was the only one who didn't scream and cower away. She reminded me of Psyc, she just jumped up and turned to face me. It was like… I don't even know how to describe it…"

"Jazz!" Once again Remy interrupted her. "'f yo' wanna leave in de mornin' yo' gotta go."

"Right. I'll be back at dawn."

Remy turned and went back inside. Sherry had fallen asleep where he left her, curled up next to Psyc.

_Dat would be a kodac mom'nt 'f it weren' fo' Lar bein' so beat up._

Jazz got back just before dawn. She and the other people had been working since 11:30 to get the bus how she wanted it. They had taken out all but the first four seats on either side. Then they had turned the rest of the bus into one huge bed. The bike was securely held in place in front of the rear door with clamps that released with the tough of a button that was located under the dash.

_Just in case, _she thought.

Jazz walked in the room and stopped. Lying on the couch was Psyc, with Sherry curled up next to her. They were covered with Remy's blanket, (Jazz didn't know it was the same one Remy had used to cover Psyc when she had fallen asleep in Sherry's room) and Remy himself had fallen asleep sitting on the floor next to the couch. He was still sitting but he was slumped over and his head was above Sherry's right next to Psyc. Just then Jazz did something she had never done before in her life—she gave up.

_What am I doing?_ She asked herself, _they're practically a family, and here I am trying to break it up just 'cause he's cute._

Jazz covered Psyc and Sherry better then went to check on the kids. She opened the door and was surprised to see al the kids sitting quietly wide awake and watching the door.

"How long have you been awake?" Jazz asked.

"We get up at five. Those of us that had been there for an extended period of time do it out of habit. We wake up the others so they don't get hit when the members show up."

The girl who spoke looked to be about ten tears old. She had short silver blond hair, sapphire blue eyes and pale skin.

Jazz looked at her for a moment then asked, "What's your name?"

"Michelle," the girl replied, "but you can call me Shell."

"Okay. Shell, can you help me?"

When Michelle nodded, Jazz went on.

"I need you to take the kids and get them on the bus, and it needs to be quiet, people are sleeping in the other room. Once we're all on the bus we'll have breakfast."

As Shell took the younger kids to the bus, Jazz packed everything. When she was done she woke up Remy.

"It's time to go," she told him.

Instead of waking up Sherry, Jazz picked her up and carried her to the bus. Remy followed and placed Psyc by Sherry.

"Remy," Jazz said quietly, "I'll be right back. Judging by the way the kids reacted when I said breakfast, we're gonna need a lot more than one small ice chest of food."

"Alrigh'. Remy'll take care o' de rent an' mee' yo' at de store."

Remy turned and walked back on the bus. He looked around and noticed how young the kids were. As he walked back to check on Psyc, the oldest of their charges spoke up.

"We won't go back," she stated.

"Wha'?" Remy asked confused.

"We won't go back to that place or another place like it."

"Wha's yo' name?" Remy asked.

"Michelle," she said and nothing more.

"Well, Michelle, Remy jus' spen' t'ree weeks trackin' dose people to get Sherry back. He don' tink he gon take her or any o' yo' t' 'nother place like tha'!"

"Your Remy? And is that girl that found us Psyc? Sherry talked about you non-stop and how you guys were going to save us."

"Oui, I'm Remy, bu' de girl tha' found yo' wasn' Psyc, dat wa' Jazz."

"So where's Psyc?" Michelle asked.

"Righ' here," Remy said as he used a damp cloth to clean Psyc's face.

"What happened?" Michelle gasped.

"She try to get Sherry by 'ersel'. She didn' wait fo' me to ge' back. She got caught an' dis is 'ow we found 'er."

Remy stood up.

"Eve'yone buckle up," he said in a raised voice and sat behind the wheel. "We gotta pick up Jazz."

Jazz was waiting outside the store when the bus pulled up.

"Remy," she called, "I need some help."

Remy climbed out of the bus.

"Merde," he swore, "di' yo' buy de whole store?"

"No, but I don't want to have to stop more then we have to."

"Alrigh', bu' yo' migh' wanna ask de kids t' help or we be here all night."

With all the kids except Sherry helping, it took them five minutes to get everything on the bus.

"Okay," Jazz told Remy, "you get to drive first, and I'll see if this 'idea' of mine will work to get the munchkins more relaxed."

Jazz walked to the back of the bus. She spent a few minutes going through the sacks that had just been loaded on the bus, finally she stood up holding two black garbage bags.

_All right,_ she thought, _if this works, I will be amazed._

"Okay," she said, "in a few minutes I'm going to make breakfast."

The children's faces lit up.

"But first, we have to do something, shell I might need your help for this. I need all of you to get in two lines, bots in front of this bag, girls in front of this one and you in order from youngest to oldest."

When they had stopped moving and stood in two orderly lines Jazz continued.

"Here's what we're gonna do: one at a time you step up to the bag, close your eyes and pull something out then go sit along the wall and wait for everyone to get done."

Remy laughed from behind the wheel, "Dey jus' petit fils, Jazz, no' soldiers."

"I know this," Jazz said, "but I don't want things to get chaotic, besides they listened."

Jazz stood back and watched as the kids drew stuffed animals from the bags. The younger ones hugged the object in a death grip as soon as they pulled it from the bag. While the older ones did not show their appreciation so openly, they did sit hugging them in their laps or if it was more a dog or cat than teddy bear, they would subtly stroke it as if it were alive. Sherry woke up in time to pull the last toy. She giggled when she saw it was a black panther with red eyes and promptly dubbed it Remy. She went to show it to the person Remy.

"Okay, these toys are your insurance policy, or promise rather."

_I really don't know how to talk to kids._

"As long as you have them you never have to go back to a place like that and if you do, you know we'll be there to get you out as soon as we can."

After a moment she said, "Now, lets eat."

Once all the kids had eaten and were lying down, lulled to sleep by the motion of the bus, Jazz went to the front of the bus. After a moment of silence Remy spoke.

"Have yo' though' 'bout 'ow we gonna feed Lar?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that a lot. What we need is an intervenes fed, but since Psyc and my brother haven't gotten around to teaching me that kind of fiend first-aid and neither of us are qualified doctors, and even if we were we don't have the proper equipment…"

She trailed off, and then snapped back.

"The best we can do is prop her in a half sitting position and let liquids slide down her throat."

Remy had no response to this. After another brief silence, she asked, "How fast are we going?"

"Si'ty, dat's twen'y o'er de speed limit," Remy told her. "Why?"

Jazz starred straight ahead out the windshield, "Double it."

Remy looked skeptical.

"I don' tink 't c'n go dat fas'."

"I told you we were up all night working on it."

"Righ'," he said sarcastically, "yo' an' a han' full o' people took a bus dat c'n barely hit eighty, an' da's pushin' it, t' w'ere 't c'n top 120? In less den eigh' hour'? Along wid de body change'?"

"No," Jazz said, "me and almost sixty people completely rebuilt the engine so it's as good as any race engine out there. At the same time a dozen other people worked on the body modifications and it took us exactly seven hours, forty-five minutes and fifteen seconds so will you go already. If we go steadily, one of us driving at all times, then we can get there in two days instead of for. So hit it already!"

Remy did hit it then asked, "'ow di' yo' get all dose people t' help?"

"Me an' Psyc have been around in the seven years we've known each other. I just called in a few favors all I had to do was let 'em know Psyc was hurt and this was how I had to get her to where we needed to go. That and a smile, please, and I had most of the people we'd done more then say 'hi' to begging to help."

"Dere still a lot dat I don' know 'bout you two ain't dere?"

"There's a lot about me and her that no one knows."

Jazz fell asleep in the seat. She woke up at nine that night and traded place with Remy. The kids were all asleep, bunched up on the other side of the bus from Psyc and Sherry.

"Have they been asleep all this time?" she asked as she sat behind the wheel.

"Non," Remy replied with a grin, "dey woke up. An' fo' 'bout half an hour you were covered in a half dozen stuffed animals."

"What? Why?" Jazz asked puzzled.

"Dat wha' Remy asked," he told her. "Turn out most o' de chille's were taken in dere slee' an' dey didn' wan' yo' t' dis'pear."

"That's riduculious. How could I disappear with all of you right there?"

"Jazz, dey jus' chille's who know how dere mind work?"

Jazz looked over about to argue when she saw how tired he looked.

Instead she said, "Remy, go get some sleep, you have to drive again tomorrow."

Remy gave her a slight smile, "Okay, Remy can take a hint, he know when someone tryin' t' get rid o' him," he teased before going and lying down beside Sherry and Psyc.

Jazz watched in the rear view mirror as Sherry snuggled into Remy's side and thought once again how much they seemed like a little family.

Jazz stuck to freeways and went around cities hoping to avoid the police. Her plan worked fairly well until late the next day.

She and Remy had traded places again and they were less then an hour away from the institute.

When the sirens started, Jazz swore, "Damn it! I knew I would have to do this."

She turned to the kids, "Sit down, act like you're on a normal car ride, just stay in your seats and sit still."

They all listened and she went to work. She pulled the sheet draped over the motorcycle, put her helmet on and got on the bike.

Then she raised her voice, "Remy, when I say now, push the button under the dash. When I'm out the door, take the next turn and slow down to regular speed and hit the red button next to the radio."

She revved the bike and yelled, "NOW!"

Remy still looked slightly confused but he hit the first button. The rear door burst outward, the clamps released the bike, and Jazz flew out the back of the bus…straight at the police cars.

Remy watched in the mirror as Jazz landed on the leading car, causing it, and those behind it to stop. Remy tore his eyes away and took the next turn. He slowed his pace to the speed limit and hit the second button. The door snapped shut and (unknown to anyone but Jazz) the license plate holder flipped, revealing a New York plate in place of the California one. A few minutes latter, half the number of police cars rounded the corner and sped right past them.

Remy breathed a sigh of relief, then said over his shoulder, "Don' none o' yo' chilles try dat stun' at home!"

The children laughed and retold the story all the way back to the mansion.

Less then a minute after the got there, Jazz pulled in, fishtailed the bike and killed the engine thinking, _Well, that was fun._

She removed her helmet and went to the bus. Remy was already carrying Psyc off the bus with Sherry close behind. Jazz motioned for the other kids to follow and they all went inside.

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome. 


	2. Desperate Measures

Desperate Measures

The hanger door opened and a jet slowly descended. Sleek, black, with incredible speed and untraceable by the best sonar, the Blackbird was an incredible piece of machinery. The engine died with that could almost be described as a sigh, or a groan. The ramp was lowered and a figure emerged. It was a girl of average height. She had an excellent figure and her red hair was short, like a boys. She wore an all black uniform that could have been made of paint for all it hid. She clasped her hands over her head and stood on her toes stretching. Jean Grey relaxed and turned to see the rest of her team disembark. There was Scott Summers, a tall somewhat muscular boy with a visor and brown hair, also wearing an all black uniform, Ororo Munroe, an African American girl, slightly smaller then Jean with White hair and (of course) a black latex uniform, Henry (Hank) McCoy, a young man that, due to a run-in with Weapon X, was now covered in blue fur and his black uniform, and last off the Jet came Peter Rasputin, a tall young man with black hair and a calm quiet disposition.

Jean grinned, "It's great to be back isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes," Hank said puzzled. "But why did he suddenly decide to recall us?"

"Maybe he decided that we need a break," Ororo said. "We've been gone for nearly four months."

"Well," Scott said, "we'll find out soon enough."

They walked into the main entryway and stopped dead, there were silent children everywhere. Not two minutes later the team was still standing there starring when Logan burst through the door, Bobby right behind him.

"What the Hell!" he yelled as one of the eighteen children tuned, put their finger to their lips and said, "Shhh! Gotta be quiet, Larla's s'eepin'!"

Suddenly the Professor's voice sounded in their ears, _The children are right, you do need to be quiet. Their assessment of the situation, however, is slightly off. Psyc is not sleeping, but rather is in a coma. If you would come into the library, I will explain everything._

The X-Men looked at each other, then proceeded down the hall to the library. Once they were all there and the door was shut, Scott spoke.

"All right, Professor, what's going on?"

"I will get to that, Scott, but first, your mission reports," Xavier said calmly.

"All missions were a success, we got them out and they know they are always welcome her," Scott said robotically.

"Good," Prof. turned to Logan. "And yours?"

"F.O.H. is practically non-existent. The main base out west was hit and the leader taken down, it fell apart after that."

"Right, the base that was hit was the base were the children were being held," Charles explained. "Now let me start at the beginning. About a month ago young Sherry was kidnapped. Psyc came home to find her gone and called her team. Jazz and Remy arrived three days later to find Psyc gone. I had thought Psyc had taken Sherry somewhere but I was wrong. They followed and caught up with her in L.A., unfortunately Psyc had been captured. They infiltrated the building and Jazz found Sherry along with eighteen other children and Remy found Psyc beaten nearly to death. Her physical injuries are healing nicely, but she will not wake up."

When he was done speaking, Jean spoke, "Professor, have you tried psychically coaxing her out?"

"Yes, Jean, I tried but could not get through her shields. I am hoping that the two of us together will be strong enough to bread the barrier. It seems Psyc is stronger then she led us to believe."

The group entered the med-lab and it, if possible, got even quieter. Sherry was asleep on the bed next Psyc, Remy was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his head resting on his arms on the side of the bed, and Jazz was leaning in the corner looking like a guard, her legs crossed at the ankle and her arms crossed over her chest.

Jazz raised a finger to her lips signaling them to be quiet.

Bobby gave her a look that said, "Duh, ya think?"

Jean started to reach out with her mind, trying to wake Remy without disturbing Sherry.

Remy opened his eyes, "Don', mon ami, 'paths can' ge' in t' Remy's head," He sat up. "So, yo' gonna try 'gain t' help Lar'a, Prof.?"

"Professor," Scott broke in, "she's had basically no training, she can't possibly be strong enough to keep both of you out."

"I hop you're right, Scott, but with her known level of training, she should not have been able to keep just me out, so I will not underestimate her. Now, if you would hive us some time with her… alone with her."

He looked from Jazz to Remy and back as he spoke the last. Remy picked up Sherry and with a last glance left, followed by a very put out Jazz. The others stalled slightly but then they too left.

Xavier turned to Jean.

"Shall we begin?"

She nodded and they both placed a hand on Psyc's forehead.

Jean seemed to lift out of herself and float in a gray mist as she entered the astral plane. It was a place of nothingness and sometimes the vague shadows that were the minds of others. Some described it as a limbo, and that was half true—the minds of others were also present, so it was not a complete void, the trick was to find them. Jean moved through the mist that clung to her like fingers, and whispered to her that this is where she belonged. She knew the tricks of this plane, knew that many had given in to those fingers and that voice and were lost. She moved on, ignoring the temptation to give in. Up ahead, she was what she was looking for, the form of the professor.

"Are you ready?" he asked and held out his hand. His voice echoed slightly and sounded far off, as all voices did in the astral plane.

"I am," she replied and grasped his hand. They remained next to each other, seemingly unchanged, yet their powers meshed. The two minds became one, yet retained their individuality.

"It's straight ahead," Xavier said and as one they moved.

Then they encountered it. Directly in front of them was something more then the typical vague shadow, this was something bright, vibrant. It was the color of a sunset and seemed to be made of a tight seamless weave. It towered above them, and seemed to stretch on forever.

"That is her shield?" Jean asked in disbelief. _How could Psyc have this, even the Professor's shields aren't this vivid or massive._

"Yes, and we must try to find the seam."

They began and three hours later they retuned from the astral plane, both on the brink of oblivion. Xavier sent Jean to bed, and then went to tell the others.

Remy, Sherry and Jazz were all in the waiting room across the hall form the med lab. Sherry was sleeping on the couch. Jazz, it seemed had simply switched corners and was once again lost in her own thoughts. Remy stood in front of the door, if they couldn't help… well, he knew what he would have to do.

_Six years o' stayin' hid, so…_ his thoughts were interrupted when the door suddenly opened.

Xavier came in looking haggard.

"I'm sorry," he told them, "there's nothing we can do."

Remy sighed, _Well, _he thought, _Remy knew he couldn' stay hid f'ever._

Then he said, "May, I use de phon'?"

"Of course, Remy, you know that."

"Oui, misure, bu' Remy no' makin' a norm'l call, Remy gon' cal N'awlins."

Remy stood in the hallway the phone pressed to his ear, it rang on the third ring someone answered, "Bonjour?"

Remy's voice caught in his throat.

"Bonjour?"

The phrase was repeated and this time he replied, "Oui, bonjour, Tante Mattie."

"Remy? I' dat yo' chille?"

"Oui, i' me," he paused and then went on. "Tante, Remy need yo' help."

"Wha's wrong? Di' yo' ge' yo'self hur'?"

"Non, Remy fine. 's ma amie. She nee's help bad."

"All righ'. Tell me wha's wrong wid 'er?"

"She's got bruises all ovah bu' dose are healin' jus' fine. Wha' I nee' yo' help wid 's she won' wake up."

"All righ', I'll be dere a'soon as possible."

"Merci, Tante Mattie, merci."

Remy hung up the phone. He knew he didn't have to gice her the address, his dad had probably already traced the number. Remy turned to find Sherry in the doorway.

"Who was that, Remy? And why did there parents name them Tante?" Sherry asked.

Remy couldn't help but laugh.

"Tante i' French, chèrie. 't means aunt. That was my aunt Mattie an' hopefully she gon' be able t' help us ge' Lar'a t' wake up."

Sherry grinned, then sobered and said, "Professor X told me to come and get you."

She used the nickname she had given the Prof. the first time she saw the way his name was spelled.

"The new students are here."

Nathan stood beside the only other person from the party to take the professor's offer. She was 5'7", six inches shorter than his 6", had long wavy dark blond hair, were his was silver blond, she had dark royal blue eyes, and his were silver gray. He looked around, always wondering which of these people were the ones he was looking for. He also didn't see Jasmin.

_Well, after the way she punched me last time, maybe that's a good thing,_ he thought.

The professor's voice brought him back to the present.

"Thank you both for giving us a chance. As previously explained, you will both have roommates, Nathan, you will be rooming with Remy, and Kitty will share a room with Sherry. Today, you will simply be getting to know your classmates."

Before he could continue, the doors behind them blew open. Nathan turned to see eighteen children, each carrying a stuff animal, come inside grinning and trying not to be loud. A girl that looked about ten stepped forward.

"Sorry to interrupt, professor, but we wanted to know," she paused and went on, "could we ride the horses?"

The professor smiled slightly and said, "You know the routine: you have to get Jazz to go with you to control the horses."

The girl opened her mouth and the professor responded, "Yes, she is with Larla-Rose."

"Thank you," the girl said and the gaggle started off down the hall.

"Kitty, Nathan, I apologize for the interruption, all but two of the children will be going home soon. That is all there is to explain, except that everything on the grounds is open, and you need to check with me before leaving them," and Xavier turned and went into his study.

"Well," Kitty said, "that was fun." She looked around. "Which one of you is Sherry?"

The 'little girl' Nathan remembered from the party raised her hand.

"I'm Sherry," she said.

"Oh," Kitty said. "Okay, then, can you show me were our room is?"

Sherry let go of Remy's hand and grabbed Kitty's.

"It's this way," Sherry said. "I don't care what you do to it, just so long as I can keep my bookcase."

Nathan heard Kitty laugh as they walked down the hall and say, "I think we're gonna get along just fine."

Remy came down the stairs, and stopped beside Nathan.

"Remy'd show to' de room, bu' he go' de fee'in' he gonna 'ave t' take ovah fo' Jazz."

As if on cue, the gaggle of children was back, with Jazz in the center.

"Remy," she called. "Could you…?"

"'m a'ready dere," Remy told her.

As Remy started to leave, Nathan called, "Do you mind if I came with you?"

Remy turned and looked at him, "Like de prof. say, yo' c'n g' anywher'. 'f yo' wanna come shore, bu' yo' gotta be quiet."

When they got where they were going Nathan realized why the place was so quiet.

After a few minutes, he asked, "Is she your girlfriend?" indicating Psyc. "I don't mean to intrude on private matters, I just figure it's better to know who's going to kill me for what."

Remy shook his head, "Non, she no' Remy's girl, bu' yo' right t' ask who who." Remy grinned, "So Remy'll fill yo' in. Scott an' Logan in a constan' battle fo' Jean, 'Ro an' Hank go 'gether, Logan migh' kill yo' go' tinkin' 'bou' lookin' at his petite soeur, dat Jazz. Oder den dat, dere ain' much t' say."

After a few more minutes passed, Nathan asked, "So how much time do you spend here watching her?"

"'bout eighteen hour a day."

Sherry sat on the steps reading a book. It had been three days since the teams got back and during that time parents had shown up and taken kids home, not only nine of them remained. The doorbell rang, and since everyone but Remy, who was watching Psyc, was out back playing hide-and-seek, she went and answered it. Standing on the doorstep was a tall man with auburn hair and sparkling brown eyes.

He smiled down at her and said, "Bonjour, petite, is mon frère dere?"

Sherry looked at him and grinned, "You must be one of the parents!" then frowned, "I don't speak French, though, so I'll go get Remy so he can translate for me. Come on in, I'll be right back."

She turned and ran down the hall. She didn't notice the black lady with him.

Remy was sitting by the bed when Sherry came in.

"Remy there's a parent here and I need you to translate because I don't speak French."

"Alrigh' Remy be dere in jus' a few minutes, keep dem busy 'til he ge's dere."

"Alright," she said and went back to the guests.

"He'll be here in a minute," she told them, "I'm supposed to keep you entertained…but I don't know what to do!"

The man smiled at her, "'ow woul' yo' like t' learn a new trick?" he asked. "One dat's tres cool?"

Sherry's eyes lit up, "Like a magic trick?" she asked.

The lady laughed as the man replied, "Yo' coul' call it dat."

Before Remy even entered the entranceway five minutes later, Sherry ran and hugged him.

Looking up at him she said, "Remy, look what he taught me to do!"

She showed him a padlock and two little picks of wire. Her face scrunched up with concentration and in forty-five seconds she had it open.

"Ta-da!" she said. "See, it's like magic!"

"Oui, Remy see, now yo' wan' him t' show yo' 'ow fas' 'e c'n do it?"

Sherry handed him the lock eagerly. In less then three seconds he had it open.

Sherry stared in wonder as he handed it back, and he went into the entranceway calling, "Henri, wha' are yo' doin' teachin' 'er t' pick locks?"

"Bonjour t' yo' too, mon frère."

"Henri, wha' yo' doin' 'ere? Yo' know Remy won' go back."

"Oui, I know," Henri said. "Which is why I din' tell pere where yo' be."

Before the conversation could go any further Mattie broke in, "B'fore yo' two g'on, 'm 'ere fo' a reason. Remy where be de girl?"

When Remy started to lead the way she said, "Don' boder takin' me, jus' tell me. Yo' know dat yo' can' be in de room anyway."

Remy told her where to go and she left.

He was going to aks about what Henri had said, when once again they were interrupted, this time by Sherry.

"Remy?" she called, while tugging his hand.

He dropped to one knee and she went on.

"How'd you get so fast at that?"

Remy laughed and pulled her into a hug.

"Henri taught Remy dat trick when 'e wa' jus' a little older den yo' be now."

Sherry looked confused, "Who's Henri?" she asked.

Remy stood up and made introductions, "Meet Henri, Henri meet Chèrie."

Henri laughed, "Oui, bu' wha' be 'er real name?"

"That is my name, silly, I'm Sherry," she said and held out her hand.

"Oh, pardon moi," Henri said and surprised her when, instead of shaking her hand, he kissed the back of it.

"Chèrie," Remy said, "'s time fo' yo' t' go see de prof."

"Okay," sherry said and hugged Remy before she left.

"Remy," Henri started.

"Don' e'en start," Remy said, "le's jus' go see 'ow Tante doin', 'kay?"

"D'accord," Henri said and followed Remy down the hall.

"Tings don' look good, Remy," Mattie said, when she finally came out of the med lab. "De chille runnin' from something an' i's pullin' 'er deeper int' 'erself."

Henri looked puzzled, "Yo' mean she doin' 't t' 'erself?"

"Oui, dat exac'ly wha' I be sayin'."

"Bu' c'n yo' help?" Remy asked.

"Oui, bu' 'm gonna need help, too," Mattie said, "I need de people who be closest t' 'er, an' I need t' ge' 'er int' a mo'e natural site."

Remy paused for a moment, then said, "Alrigh', tante, de prof. say do whatevah yo' say so…"

Remy went over and gently took Psyc off life support. He handed Henri the blanket and picked up Psyc.

"Lea' de way, tante."

Remy and Henri followed Mattie out into the woods. When she stopped, Henri spread out the blanket and Remy lowered Psyc onto it. A short time latter, Sherry and Jazz walked into the clearing. Mattie explained what was wrong and what she planned to do. Then she told them that only the people who were close to Psyc could stay. Henri left and Remy started to follow. Jazz stepped in front of him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Yo' 'eard wha' tante said…"

Jazz cut him off, "Remy LeBeau, if you try to leave this clearing, I'll give you the same treatment I gave Psyc the day she tried to leave the institute."

Remy sat down next to Sherry. Jazz sat on the other side of the blanket. Mattie told them to close their eyes, clear their minds and think only of Psyc. Then she started chanting in a language none of them understood. They remained like that for almost two hours, their eyes closed, thinking of Psyc with Mattie's voice washing over them like ocean waves.

Finally Psyc took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

When everyone looked up at her she grinned.

"Hey," she said, "looks like I missed the fireworks."

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome.


	3. Back on Schedule

Back on Schedule

Jazz grinned, "Fireworks, what fireworks?"

Psyc tried to sit up but found it was more difficult then she remember, so she laid back down.

"Are you telling me you managed to get us out without a fight scene?"

"No," Jazz said, "Remy nearly blew the entire building up."

Psyc laughed, "See, fireworks!" and was promptly 'attacked' by Sherry who decided to throw herself on Psyc.

"I'm alright Sherry!" Psyc said, "I'm just having problems getting my legs to respond."

"Don' worry," the woman standing over her said, "dat'll on'y be a prob'm fo' a few day."

Then she grinned and said, "Now I tink I'll 'ave Henri take m' 'ome."

Remy got up and hugged her, "Merci, 'gain, tante."

The woman left and it was just the four of them.

"Sherry," Psyc said, "You have to get off of me so we can go back to the house."

With Jazz and Remy's help Psyc managed to get to her feet.

She looked down and laughed, "Haven't I seen that blanket before?

* * *

Psyc watched as the last cars pulled away. Now all but one of the children were gone, some would be coming back, others would not. Psyc looked at the only child left, a little girl with red hair, cut to just above her ear lobes and wide innocent chocolate brown eyes, her skin was fair with freckles dotting her nose. Sarah was only seven, and both her parents had been killed trying to protect her from the F.O.H. 

_At least she won't end up on the street like I did,_ Psyc thought.

I would like to see you all in the library please, the professor's voice rang through their minds.

When everyone had arrived, the prof. spoke, "I know the past week has been slightly strange, but I would like us to get back on schedule, and in order for us to do that I need Jasmin to release control of the computer system to me."

For the first time Psyc could remember, Sarah spoke.

"You mean she took control of the entire system? This place is wired so tight you can tell when a single blade of grass is bent and she took complete control of it?"

Everybody stared at her.

"Sorry," she said, "I can talk to computers, at least that's as good an explanation as I can give for it."

Jazz was the first one to regain her composure.

"Yeah, I did," she said, "its not that hard, you just…"

Jazz and Sarah were soon lost in technical talk about computers. The prof. sighed and released them all to do whatever.

Psyc and Jazz went out on the grounds. Jazz drew a circle on the ground with a 15' diameter. The two friends stepped inside and bowed to each other, then took fighting stances.

They circled each other always watching for an opening. Jazz moved first, she aimed a kick to Psyc's stomach that would've taken her out if she hadn't blocked. Psyc grabbed Jazzes foot as she kicked and brought it up. While turning, Jazz flipped and landed on her back. The two girls laughed and Psyc held her hand out to help Jazz up.

"When did you learn that trick?" Jazz asked.

"To tell you the truth," Psyc confessed, "I wasn't sure it would work."

"Feel up for round two?"

"Always."

This time the fight lasted fifteen minutes, the two girls were nothing but a whirlwind of flying fists and feet. The fight finally ended with Jazz pinning Psyc on the ground, her forearm across Psyc's throat. The sound of applause made them get up, as they had fought the teams had gathered to watch.

"Well," Scott said, "I think we found our new hand-to-hand instructors."

* * *

The next two weeks established a routine. In the morning, they had Danger room practice (except Sherry, Sarah and Kitty who would not be allowed in the field), after breakfast they had "school" and after lunch they had hand-to-hand training. It was during one of these lessons that they had an unexpected visitor. 

Psyc was walking around correcting fighting stances when she noticed Logan was talking to someone, a very failure someone. She motioned for Jazz to take over and walked toward them.

"No," she said, raising her voice so Logan and his friend could hear her, "I don't know what you thing you're doing her, Uncle Nick, but no, go away, I'm not gonna let you try and drag us into S.H.I.E.L.D. business!"

Logan looked from Nick Fury to Psyc and back again.

"Uncle?" he asked. "Since when do you have siblings?"

"I don't," Fury answered, "I have no clue what she's talking about."

"Great!" Psyc exclaimed. "I trained beside the man for almost ten years and he doesn't remember!"

"Psyc, calm down," Logan told her.

"Ten years or running courses and learning to track."

"Larla," Logan yelled, "calm down!"

Psyc rounded on him, eyes blazing.

"Don't use my given name."

"Wait a minute," Fury said, "Larla? Larla-Rose?"

"He's a regular Einstein, isn't he?" she asked, sarcastically. "Now go away."

Logan turned to Psyc, "Kid, mind clarifying what you're sayin'?"

"What's there to clarify?" she asked. "I'm telling, not asking, telling Nick Fury, Jack Datarazanoff's best friend, to go away."

Logan looked slightly shocked then grinned, "So that's what you meant when you said you worked with people better trained than the S.E.A.L.s," he took on a more serious demeanor, "now go back to teaching your lesson."

Psyc thought about being stubborn and staying until she saw Fury leave, instead she went back to her class.

As she walked away, she heard Logan say, "Sorry about that, she's…"

"Head-strong?" Fury supplied. "She always was, but she would have made one hell of a soldier."

_Right,_ Psyc thought, _me a soldier. Not only does S.H.I.E.L.D. not let women join, but I could never go back there._

When she got back to the class she said, "Okay, everyone pair up. It's time to see who learned more this week."

As they teamed up, Jazz asked, "Do you still need me? I'm supposed to completely remove my influence on the system today."

"Sure, go ahead," Psyc said.

Once pairs had been made, Psyc found out that there were an odd number of students. The person left was Remy.

"Okay," she said, "here's how it works. 1. You do not pull your punches. 2. The fight is over when, A. one person can no longer fight, or B. one person signals defeat. 3. When all fights are done the winners will pair up and it starts over. Gambit, you have the misfortune of being paired with me the first round. Oh, one last thing, there will be no powers and no weapons. Begin."

All pairs stepped into the fight circles and the fights were on. No one noticed the two figures watching the scene.

* * *

"Maybe we trained her too well," Fury muttered, watching Psyc train the other students. 

"How long did you actually?" Logan asked, assuming he knew what Fury meant.

"Eight months," Fury said simply.

"What are you here for?" Logan asked. "I know it wasn't just for a social call."

"We need information on Magneto and you're the only one who ca get it."

"Sorry, bub, but ol' buckethead would never let me in, I've been there already. He knows our team, so there's not much we can do to help."

Logan turned to walk away.

"What about Larla-Rose?" Fury asked. "Does he know about her?"

Logan turned back to face him.

"Would you really sink that low?" Logan demanded. "Would you really send your best friend's daughter into the snake pit knowing that if he catches her she's dead?"

Fury met Logan stare for stare, "If that's what it takes to get the information we need, yes, I am."

Logan stared in silence for a few more minutes, then growled, "Get out. Stay away from Psyc."

Fury about-faced and walked off the grounds.

_I still better keep my eye out for him_, Logan thought and turned to watch the class.

He grinned slightly at the sight. All but one of the fights had ended during his conversation with Nick. Psyc and Gambit were still going at it.

_Either he knows more then he said, or she's holding back._

He had to admit it was quite a sight. They had been fighting for about five minutes and neither of them seemed to be tiring. Finally Psyc tried a roundhouse kick, and the Cajun dropped and swiped his leg across the ground, knocking her feet out from under her.

* * *

Psyc hit the ground and Remy pinned her arms over her head with his hands and her legs with his knees. 

Psyc looked up at him and asked, "Where did you learn that? I know we haven't taught it yet."

Remy moved and helped her to her feet, "Remy mighta pr'fere' de Bo-Staff, bu' 'e di' learn a bi' o' hand-t'-hand from Henri."

"Looks like it's gonna be loads of fun when we move on to weapons," she commented grinning, "now winners, pair up."

Remy turned to find himself facing Storm and thought for the zillionth time, _Remy swear 'e see dat face 'for de ally._

Then the fight started and he couldn't think.

* * *

Psyc lay awake in bed waiting for Jazz to fall asleep. She didn't think Jazz would stop her, but at the same time didn't want Jazz to go with. Finally she got up. She slipped silently out the door and made her way to the Danger Room. She slipped onto the control room and sat behind the control panel. 

_Jazz may be the computer genius, but I know enough to do this,_ she thought.

For the next two hours, she sat behind the controls, her fingers flying over the keys. When she was done, she added a note to Sarah.

All it said was, "Shhhh!" with the equivalent of a wink and a grin so she wouldn't tell anyone what Psyc had done.

Then she stood up and said, "Computer loop the scene in the Danger Room now, and do not return to active taping until I say to."

The loop started and Psyc entered the Danger Room.

She stood in the center of the room and called, "Computer, activate program, 'Last Days'. Activation code: R-P-G-S-S."

The air shimmered for a second, then solidified. Psyc flung her arms wide and spun around in a circle grinning. It was New Orleans in the height of one of it' many festivals. She didn't know which one, but it was what had brought her and her parents to the city seven years ago. Psyc grinned at the memory.

Her dad had come home with a big grin and said, "It's official, I'm free for the next two weeks." Then he pulled out three airline tickets and said, "And we're going to spend it in New Orleans. The festival starts in two days, so… go pack L.R., the plane leaves in one and a half hours."

Psyc had run and hugged him, then dashed up the stairs to pack. In the Danger Room, Psyc pushed away the ugly part of the trip and slipped into the crowd. After seven years, every sight was like the first time, and the Danger Room was advanced enough to the point that everything seemed real. Finally she called a halt to the program and went back into the control room.

"Computer," she called, "hide all signs of program 'Last Days' and return to normal surveillance."

She slipped back to her room and went to sleep.

* * *

Remy woke up to the sound of his combination alarm clock/radio. 

_'s February 15th,_ he thought, _Remy been 'ere fo' almos' t'ree months, an' 'e still don' like getting' up s' early._

He rolled out of bed and got dressed.

_A' leas' dere no classes t'day._

Then he went down to breakfast.

"Le' Remy guess," he said when he got there and Psyc wasn't there, "she still sleepin'."

"Yep!" Sherry said brightly and handed him a mug of coffee.

"Merci, Chèrie," he said with a grin and took the cup.

"She's been doing this for two weeks," Jazz said. "What's up? She can't be that tired!"

"Remy don' blame 'er fo' sleepin' in, bu' she miss breakfas' e'ery time," Remy said, grabbing a plate to go with the coffee.

He noticed Sarah was looking down at her plate with a huge grin. He was about to ask why when the professor's voice sounded in their minds.

All students report to the Danger Room.

"O' course 'e woul' do dis on our day off, non?"

Sherry giggled.

"Have fun!" Sarah called.

* * *

Psyc nearly jumped out of bed when Xavier's voice boomed in her head. 

"Danger Room?" she muttered. "Why the Danger Room?"

She threw on her uniform and went downstairs. She joined the others and covered a yawn.

"You are probably all wondering why I called you here," the prof. said. "The reason is we will soon be starting training in stealth and tracking. Today's exercise will help us gauge your skill level in these two areas. You will be playing a variation of hide and go seek. One at a time you will chose a location. You will have a thirty-second head start, then five minutes to avoid the others. After the five minutes are up, or you get caught, we will move on to the next person. Logan, you are excluded from this."

The prof. went into the observation room with Logan and the rest of the students went into the Danger Room.

Logan's voice came over the intercom, "Alright, Psyc, you're up, let's see what you know."

Psyc stepped forward and a wall appeared behind her.

"Computer," she called, "activate program 'Last Days', activation code, R-P-J-S-S."

The program started and she fades into the crowd. As she passed the various bead, hat and mast stands, she grabbed various items and put them on, making her blend in more completely.

* * *

The wall in front of them dropped and the teams stalled. 

"Since whe' does de Danger room 'ave N'awlins durin' Marti Gras?" Remy asked.

"It didn't," Scott said. "C'mon, let's find her. The clock's ticking."

As everyone took off, Remy grabbed Jazzes arm and held her back.

"What are you doing!" she demanded. "We have to find Psyc."

"Oui, bu' yo' gonna follow dem, o' Remy who grew up in dis city?"

"Good point," Jazz relpied.

Remy started forward, "Jus' look fo' som'one dat don' fit in, dat's no' as colorful."

Noticing how interactive the program was, Remy decided to tak a gamble, he walked up to the nearest vender and said, "Bonjour, mon ami, di' yo' see a belle femme go by 'ere?"

The man behind the counter laughed.

"I see alotta girls dat fit dat description t'day."

"Oui," Remy said, "bu' dis one was dressed in skin tigh' black clothes, like de ones ma ami's wearin'," and he pointed to Jazz and the man nodded.

"Oui, de femme wen' dat way, an' she wa' buyin' tings t' fit in."

"Merci, Misure," Remy said and went in the direction indicated. As they walked, Remy asked Jazz, "Di' yo' do dis?"

"No," Jazz said, shaking her head.

"Den who?" he asked.

"Probably Psyc," Jazz said, "I may be a hack expert, but there aren't exactly blocks for the main computer. She has plenty of experience to write a program like this, especially with a computer like that, it will practically walk you through the process and just a verbal command will have it hidden from anyone but Sarah."

"Bu' why woul' sh' d' it? Why make something like dis?" Remy asked.

"Ask her, not me," Jazz answered. "Even if I did know, it's not my place to tell."

"At leas' we know why she been so tired, la'ely." Remy said. "She pro'ly been runnin' dis program e'ery nigh'."

"You're probably right," Jazz agreed.

Then she spotted someone who didn't quite fit in. It wasn't anything big, but she didn't thing combat boots were very common in a place like this. She grabbed Remy's arm to make him stop.

"I think I found her," she said quietly.

Remy turned and smiled. Psyc would have fit in perfectly at an actual festival, but in the simulation there were just a few things that gave her away. The clothes didn't look as well thought out, and her long hair was in a simple braid, not done up in a creative manner.

"D' yo' wan' t' 'tag' 'er or d' yo' wan' Remy t'?"

"You go ahead," Jazz said. "I don't want to be the one to ruin her fun."

Remy walked up behind Psyc and whispered, "Tag, yo' it."

The prof's voice came over the intercom, "End program."

The scene faded and the rest of the teams were startled to find that none of them were more then fifteen feet away, yet they hadn't seen her.

"How did you find me?" Psyc demanded.

Remy laughed.

"Yo' made dem all too perfect, chèrie. None o' dem wearin' a costume dat wa' t'rown t'geder, like yo's wa'."

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome.


	4. Reunions

Reunions

Watching the 'hide-and-seek' session Charles Xavier saw only what he expected, the longer one of his students had spent on their own taking care of themselves, the better they were at both blending in and picking out those that didn't. Logan's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Those three have all had some sort of training," Logan stated. "I understand the girls, Psyc trained with Fury, and Jazz trained with me, then the two of them hooked up together. But where did the Cajun learn to hide and blend in so well?"

"Logan," Xavier said, "you are being paranoid. Everyone is entitled to their secrets, and it was his aunt that brought Psyc back to consciousness."

The training session ended before Logan could reply. Xavier entered the Danger Room.

"You all did well," he told the teams, "we will do more of this and you will get better at avoidance." He then turned to Psyc. "Next time, inform us when you create a new program."

Psyc nodded her understanding and Xavier released them to enjoy the rest of the day. He watched as the students formed their normal groups. Scott and Hank went off to work on the vehicles, Jean and Ororo went to talk, Nathan went off on his own and a rather talkative Bobby followed Peter. Remy, Psyc and Jazz were the last left. They all walked out together.

As they left, he heard Psyc ask, "Are you going to go riding with us?" and Remy's reply, "Non…" before they were out of hearing range.

Xavier smiled.

_At least they all get along, _he thought and headed to his study.

* * *

In the main entrance Psyc and Jazz waved to Remy and went outside. The girls made their way to the stables. Psyc stopped outside the third stall door. She reached out and stroked the horse's nose. The strawberry roan was a big horse; in fact, she was constantly told he was too big for her. Psyc didn't care. 

"Hey, Peachblossom," she said quietly to the gelding Xavier had let her claim. "Are we going to get through today without any tricks?"

The horse nickered and Psyc didn't need Jazzes translation, or her laugh to know the horse didn't think it was likely.

"I didn't think so," Psyc laughed and went to get the riding equipment.

As she saddled Peachblossom, Psyc wondered again if Jazz had spoken to the horse. Around the mansion, he was known for being mean and playing 'tricks' on his riders, yet he had never done anything to actually hurt Psyc.

_Not that I'm complaining,_ she thought. _I love this horse and if he treated me the way he treats everyone else, I'd have to do so from a distance._

"Are you going to ride him, or just pet him all morning?" Jazz asked.

She had already mounted her horse. A pure black Arabian named Jamal. He was a compact gelding that, unlike Psyc's horse, he looked just right for her, and lucky for the girls, he could easily keep pace with the larger horse.

"Of course I'm going to ride him, but someone has to saddle Hoshi," Psyc responded, naming the black mare with white socks and a white star in the middle of her forehead. "Or did you forget we're taking Sarah?"

Jazz sighed, she had forgotten, and dismounted to help with Hoshi. The girl ran in as Jazz and Psyc finished. Once everyone was mounted, they headed toward the expansive woods and extensive trails.

* * *

As she was walking down the hall, Ororo heard laughter form the living room. She altered her course to see what Gambit had found to amuse Sherry this time. She stood in the doorway for a time watching Gambit show Sherry how quickly he could open various kinds of locks. 

When he gave both locks and tools to the girl, Ororo laughed and said, "Do you really think she needs to learn this, Gambit? What would your family think if they knew you were teaching a seven year old to pick locks?"

He looked up and grinned at her.

"Mon frerè wa' de one who go' 'er interes'ed in de firs' place an' mon perè woul' as' why Remy didn' star' teachin' 'er sooner."

As always his name made something nag the back of her mind.

"Ta da!" Sherry said as the lock popped.

"Tres bien, chère," Remy told her, then turned back to Ororo. "Yo' wan' t' come watch 'er 'tricks' o' yo' jus' gon' t' stan' 'n de doo'way?"

Ororo came in and sat down.

"You never mentioned you were from the Big Easy," she said watching Sherry concentrate on a more difficult lock.

"De accent don' give 't 'way?" he asked teasingly.

"Accent? What accent?" Ororo asked laughing.

As the laughter died down, Sherry said, "Remy, will you show me how to do this one again… I can't get it."

As Remy showed Sherry how to open the lock, he asked, "'ave yo' e'er been t' N'awlins?"

"Yes," Ororo answered, then paused considering the question, and then said, "I lived there for a few years, but I haven't been back since I was six."

"Tha's abou' when I wen' t' stay wid mon perè," Remy said. "Or shortly after."

He released Sherry's hands and she began again on her own.

"Thinking back, I don't see how my guardian put up with me," Ororo said. "I was constantly breaking rules that bordered on laws."

Neither of them noticed when Sherry stopped to listen to their stories. Half an hour later, they were still talking and laughing. Sherry had taken her locks to the porch to practice.

"I 'member once," Remy told Ororo, "I annoy mon frerè Henri so much 'e t'reatened t' lea'e m' in de swamp. An' 'f Mercy hadn' talked 'im ou' o' it, 'e would 'ave."

Instead of laughing, Ororo looked at him slightly startled.

"Did you say Mercy?" she asked.

"Oui," Remy told her. "She's Henri's wife, well, girlfriend den, quoi?"

"The family I stayed with…" Ororo paused, "they had a daughter Mercy."

Remy looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "Tall, blon' femme? Norm'y wore i' tie back an' a swea' ban' on 'er fore'ead?"

"Yes," Ororo said as the pieces fell into place.

"Now Remy 'member where 'e see' yo' b'fore de alley!" he exclaimed. "Yo' were wid Pierre an' Lapin when Henri introduced Remy t' dem de firs' time!"

Ororo laughed, "I had almost forgotten those two. They never could stay out of trouble, and after you showed up, it got worse… or better," she corrected, "depending on how much fun you had."

"Dose two din' need any help," Remy said, laughing, "I jus' made sure de plans were prop'ly though' ou'."

* * *

When Ororo excused herself, Remy looked at the clock. 

_Dey shoul' be back from dere ride, non?_ he thought as he stood and stretched.

Out in the hall, he ran into Jazz and Sarah.

"Hey, Remy!" Sarah called laughing. "Jazz taught me an' Hoshi how to jump today."

"You're a natural," Jazz told the girl who in response grinned up at her.

"B' careful ma amie," Remy told Jazz with a grin. "Remy t'ink she getting' attached t' yo', non?"

"Oh, shut up and go talk to Psyc or something," Jazz retorted grinning back.

"Where is she?" Remy asked.

"Still out with Peachblossom," Sarah told him, wrinkling her nose.

"Mon Dieu!" Remy exclaimed. "Does she still ride dat beast?"

"He's not that bad," Jazz objected, "and she likes him."

"Oui, s' Remy had betta go save 'er fron 'im," he said smiling and walked out the door.

When he entered the stables, Psyc had Peachblossom tied in the center walkway and her back to the door brushing the horse. Remy slipped inside and as he quietly closed the door, he noted she was humming. He smiled to himself and walked silently forward. When he stood directly behind Psyc, he placed one hand over her eyes and wrapped the other around her waist and pulled her back against him as if he were taking her prisoner.

"Shhh," he whispered in her ear. "Yo' gon' b' quiet, non?"

"Remy!" she said, obviously not playing along. "Don't you know…"

In one fluid motion, he removed his hand from her eyes, spun her around to face him, and put his finger to her lips, still holding her against him.

"Though' Remy tol' yo' t' b' quiet," he said, looking down into her eyes and barely hiding his grin.

Psyc opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Peachblossom stomped his foot, making it clear he did not appreciate Remy's interruption. Remy released Psyc and she stepped back and turned to finish caring for the horse.

Remy leaned against the stall, watching her. A few moments latter the silence was broken.

"Gambit, weren't you ever told it's not polite to stare?"

Remy and Psyc turned to see Nathan walk in the door.

"Hi, Nate," Psyc called. "What's the latest?"

"Professor's giving us a week off sometime this month," he told them. "Winter Break. Like they do in some parts of Europe. Because, as he said, this is a school after all."

"An dat means wha'?" Remy asked.

"It means we have a week to do what ever. People who have families that want them get to go back. Or we can stay here and just sit around," Nathan told them.

"Are you going back to your sister?" Psyc asked him.

"Yes," Nathan said, "Actually I wanted to ask you something." He paused, as if unsure, then asked, "If I invited Jazz, do you think she would accept?"

Remy was slightly startled, but Psyc didn't seem surprised at all.

"I'm not sure," she told Nathan. "She might have plans with her brother."

"Alright, thank you," Nathan said and left.

"Yo' were 'spectin' dat, weren' yo'?" Remy asked Psyc.

She laughed, "I've been expecting something like it, yes."

"D' yo' t'ink she'll accep'?"

"That depends," Psyc told him as she put Peachblossom away.

Remy didn't bother to ask what she meant. The walk back to the mansion was made in silence. As they passed the table in the entrance hall Remy grabbed the mail in his tray.

"Psyc!" Sherry called, running down the stairs. "You said today you would show me the festival program."

"I did, didn't I?" Psyc said, smiling. "Let's go get changed. If we're gonna do this, let's do it right."

Remy continued to walk with them. When the girls went into Psyc and Jazzes room, he continued down the hall to the room he shared with Nathan. When he walked in, Nathan was lounging on his bed.

"You know," Nathan commented. "It is okay to take the coat off once in a while. You don't always need twenty packs with you."

Remy smiled and took off his trench coat, removing a deck of cards from one of the pockets as he did. He then rolled the deck of cards in his shirtsleeve.

"Dat betta?" he asked his roommate.

"Much," Nathan said grinning. "Now you only have 52 bombs at your disposal."

"'Til I grab somet'in' else," Remy retorted, also grinning.

This exchange was habit; they did it every time one of them entered the room. Remy plopped down on his bed and opened his mail. There were three things: a magazine, the CDs he had ordered and a letter from his brother.

"So… 'ave yo' talked t' Jazz yet?" he asked.

"No," Nathan replied. "Actually I was about to call my sister when you came in."

"Do yo' wan' m' t' leave?"

"No, it'll be quick, besides, I don't think you are going to eavesdrop on me and my sister."

Nathan took out his cell phone and Remy opened his letter.

Remy,

I know you said you aren't going to come back, so I won't try to talk you into it. I am, however, gong to ask you to come visit during your next school break. Despite what you seem to think, we would be glad to see you again. I won't tell you to write back (since you would ignore it anyway) but if you decide to come visit the door is always open to you, mon frère.

Henri

Remy finished reading the letter just in time to see Nathan hang up.

"S' will she le' yo' bring Jazz?"

Nathan smiled, "Yeah, but I don't think she's very happy about it. So who's the letter from?"

"Mon frère," Remy told him. "'e wan's Remy t' visit."

Remy went to his closet. He pulled out a hat, a mask and a cape.

"Where are you going?" Nathan asked as Remy put the things on.

"De Danger Room."

"You're putting on a costume to go blow things up?"

Remy laughed, "Non, we no' usin' i' fo' trainin'."

He leaned back into the closet and pulled out another mask. He threw it at Nathan and said, "C'mon. Yo' coul' probably use a party as much as Remy."

Nathan looked at the mask skeptically before he shrugged and put it on. They walked down the hall. Remy wondered how it was exactly he and the girls had befriended Nathan. The guy had a tendency to stay secluded and keep things to himself. Not that that was much different from the three of them, but Nathan just seemed more like he grew up never letting anyone know what was wrong or even if something was. They got toe the Danger Room and Remy entered the code to allow entrance without disrupting the program. He let his eyes scan the crown and soon found Sherry, along with Sarah watching a group of 'jesters' perform. Sarah turned to look at them and Remy put his finger to his mouth. Sarah grinned and gave the slightest thumbs up, then discreetly pointed to where groups of people were doing traditional dances. Remy nodded his thanks, pulled his mask down to cover his face and motioned for Nathan to follow him. Nathan spotted Jazz on the side and went to join her. Remy slipped into the dance just as they were switching partners. Remy had arranged it where the next switch would leave him paired with Psyc. Neither Remy nor Psyc was paying attention to their friends or heard what they said.

Jazz stood shaking her head as the partners changed again.

Nathan laughed quietly, "So how long do you think it'll take her to realize it's him?"

"Only as long as he can keep his mouth shut," Jazz answered, grinning.

"Oh," Nathan paused, "So about thirty seconds?"

Jazz laughed out right, "He doesn't talk that much."

"No," Nathan agreed, "He flirts that much."

"Okay, you've got a point there," Jazz conceded.

Contrary to their joking, the song ended without Remy giving himself away. As the last chord died and the dancers stepped away from each other, Remy maintained possession of Psyc's hand long enough to place a kiss on the back before releasing it.

"Wait a minute. That's not anywhere in the program," Psyc protested.

"Den de program be flawed," Remy said removing his mask. "N'awlins 's full o' people wid manners li'e dat."

"Really?" Psyc asked interested. "Who?"

"Oui," Remy told her with a large grin. "Dey called Remy's family."

That got everyone laughing. They all wandered the 'streets' together. Actually it was half wandering, half looking for Sarah and Sherry. They weren't that worried, after all they could always just end the program, but they looked anyway. Not long after they started the little girls ran up.

"Remy!" Sherry said, excited. "There's someone here that can do your trick!"

"Wha' trick?" Remy asked.

"The one where you make the card disappear, but leave the center glowing," Sherry said, grabbing his and Psyc's hands and tugging them.

"I tried to tell her it was just a hologram," Sarah told Jazz, "But she wouldn't listen."

"That's alright, at least you knew," Jazz assured her.

"Of course I did," Sarah said. "It's just another computer program."

Jazz laughed, "Don't get too cocky. One of these days someone will write a program that fools even you."

"I know," Sarah said, "But this isn't a very complex program. Detailed but not structured."

By now they had reached a group of people. Floating softly down was a glowing spade. They watched for a moment then, with a quiet sizzling, the spade was gone.

"See!" Sherry said. "I told you he does your trick."

"An' yo' were righ'," Remy said, turning to Psyc.

"This is just a big mesh of festivals," she told them. "It's based on one I went to when I was seven but I added things. I added this guy from stories people at the shelter told." Psyc shrugged then smiled, "Now I know who it was I guess."

The group spent another four hours in the program, but they avoided the card shows. They joined games and listened to songs. Finally Sarah and Sherry began to yawn and Psyc called the program to a halt. She checked the time and was surprised to see it was well passed when dinner was cleared from the table and the dishes cleaned.

"No wonder you two are so tired," Psyc laughed, "It's almost 9:30."

"I'm not t-t-tired."

Sherry's objection was interrupted with a yawn. When she started for the door, she swayed and Remy picked her up.

"Course yo' no'," he laughed. "Yo' just' havin' trouble gettin' yo' feet t' listen."

"Remy…" Sherry said, her voice fading.

She was half asleep before she finished and even further before they reached the door. Remy held her one hand under her knees, the other behind her back. Her head lulled against his shoulder and her breathing slowed.

Psyc noticed that Sarah too was asleep on her feet. She considered picking the girl up, but instead tapped Jazz.

She motioned toward Sarah and whispered, "You're the one she latched onto. If I do something she'll just get mad 'cause I'm making her look bad in front of you."

Jazz looked back and sighed. "Sometimes she acts so mature, I forget she's still a kid."

She slowed and when Sarah drew even with her, she scooped her up in her arms, copying the way Remy carried Sherry.

"Jazz," the girl objected, "I can walk."

"No," Jazz corrected. "You can stumble. You have to know when you've had enough."

After Jazzes reassurance, the girl settled into her arms and fell asleep. Jazz looked down at the child that snuggled into her arms. Gazing at the innocent face she suddenly realized just how big this was. It suddenly occurred to her that Sarah trusted her completely; this little girl had complete confidence in her to keep her safe.

"See? They aren't so bad, are they?" Psyc asked.

"Does it bother you?" Jazz inquired not looking up from Sarah. "Knowing that they have so much confidence in us…that they see us as a parent?"

"No," Psyc told her. "Because as long as they look up to us, they aren't going to look up to people that will get them in trouble and not care."

By now they had reached the room the two girls shared with Kitty. They knocked to see if Kitty was there. Then she opened the door, she grinned.

"You totally wore them out," she said, taking Sarah from Jazz. "Wish I could do that normally it takes forever to get them to sleep."

"Yo' jus' le' dem do wha' evah fo' six 'ours an dey go righ' t' sleep," Remy told her laughing and laying Sherry in her bed. Psyc grabbed Sherry's panther and Sarah's wolf.

As she tucked them into the girls arms, Kitty asked, "What's with those anyway?" she indicated the toys, "Sarah spent half an hour tearing the room apart to find the wolf last week."

"They're promises," Jazz said.

As the group was leaving, Kitty called, "Oh, by the way, you missed the announcement. Winter break is the week after next."

* * *

The next week went by fairly quickly. The routine wasn't broken, classes went on as usual, but the main topic of conversation was what people were going to do over break. 

Jazz had just got done sparing with Psyc when Nathan suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere.

"Um, Jazz, may I have a moment of your time?" he asked.

"Sure," she told him and added silently, _Whatever it is has him nervous. He never slips into proper speech like that unless his is._

They walked away, toward the stables. The horses called greetings and she smiled sending them back. When they stopped she looked at him.

"So what's on your mind?" she asked.

Nathan decided to be frank. "I would like you to come with me."

"Where? When?" Jazz asked slightly puzzled.

"Over the break," Nathan explained, "I want you to come with me to my sisters."

Jazz pause for a moment, stunned, then said, "Nate I'd love to but…"

"You already have plans."

"No…" Jazz told him, "It's just, and I can't believe I 'm going to say this, I don't know if I should leave Sarah like that."

Nathan smiled. "From the introduction party, I got the impression you didn't like kids."

"I didn't," Jazz told him. "I'm not sure what happened, but she trusts and expects me to keep her safe."

"Talk to her," Nathan suggested. "See what she thinks. Then let me know."

He paused for a moment then headed back to the mansion. Jazz watched him leave, then went to find Sarah.

* * *

Sherry had fallen in love with the Mardi-Gras program in the Danger Room. If she and either Psyc or Remy could not be found, that was normally where they were. She loved the colors, the music and the costumes. Every time she went in there, she discovered something new. The program was just random enough that it was never exactly the same. Yet at the same time, it was detailed enough as the people could hold conversations. Sherry didn't know if that was because of Psyc or the advanced computer that was the danger room, but she didn't care. As long as she was in here with Psyc and Remy, they were together and having fun. Sherry spun around laughing, her black hair fanning out behind her. 

"Yo' really li'e dis, don' yo'?" Remy asked her.

"Yeah," Sherry said, grinning. "I love it, you never know what to expect and it's always fun." She pointed behind him and said, "See what I mean?"

Remy turned to see what she was pointing at. A group of three people were juggling daggers back and fourth with Psyc standing in the center. The 'gypsies' caught the knives and bowed. Everyone clapped and Psyc rejoined her friends.

"Don' try dat a' 'ome," Remy told Sherry and swung her around onto his shoulders.

Sherry laughed, "I am at home," she reminded Remy.

"Exactly," Psyc told her, "Just don't do it."

"I won't." Sherry assured her, "It's one thing in a computer game, and something else when it's real."

"Speakin' o' which," Remy said, "How woul' yo' li'e t' see de real t'ing?"

"You mean an actual festival?" Sherry squealed. "That sounds great! How? When?"

"Mon frère, Henri, wrote askin' Remy t' visit an' de break is ovah Mardi-Gras. Remy though' we coul' ta'e 'im up on 'is offer."

Sherry hugged Remy's hand and begged, "Can we? Please! Please, please, please, please, please?"

Remy laughed, "O' course we can. Remy jus' wan'ed t' ma'e sure yo' wan'ed t' go."

"Yay!" Sherry yelled, and then added as an afterthought, "Is Psyc coming too?

"Sherry, I don't…" Psyc began, but Remy interrupted her.

"O' course she is," Remy interrupted. "We all goin'." He smiled and added, "An' we gon' drive dem insane too."

Sherry grinned, barely able to keep from clapping her hands.

_It's almost like having mommy and daddy back again,_ she thought, _but these two don't go around kissing each other.

* * *

_

Psyc was sitting on the windowsill when Jazz walked in.

"Hey, you got a minute?" Jazz asked.

Psyc turned to look at her and smiled, "Of course."

"It's about next week," Jazz began.

"Don't worry about it, I'm not going to be here either," Psyc interrupted.

"How'd you guess?"

"Nathan asked me last Saturday if I thought you would go."

"Oh," Jazz said, "Well we leave tomorrow "

Psyc smiled, "Most people do, but I'll wait and see you off."

* * *

Remy watched as Psyc and Jazz said goodbye. Nathan's sister was due any minute and they had a plane to catch. Sherry stood with Sarah, wearing a backpack. She held 'Remy' her panther out to Sarah. Remy smiled when the girl refused the toy gave Sherry a hug. His thoughts were interrupted by Jazz. 

"I don't know where you're taking them," she told him, "but if anything happens, I hold you responsible."

Remy saluted her and said, "Oui madmoiselle, Remy won' le' anyt'ing 'appen t' dem."

"Good," Jazz told them and grinned. "Now go before you miss your plane."

She motioned her head toward the garage. Remy saluted her again then went to get Sherry. The bags were already in the car and Jean was behind the wheel.

"I still don't see why you won't just let Scott drop you off in the Blackbird," Jean said pulling out of the gate.

"Trus' Remy, ma amie, yo' don' wan' t' drop in on 'is family ou' o' de sky li'e dat."

The plane ride was quiet. Sherry fell asleep and Psyc stared out the window. Remy wondered what it was that had her emotions raging, but knew better ten to ask. When the plane landed, Psyc carried Sherry and Remy grabbed her pack. They had left the mansion in the late afternoon and it was now dark. Remy debated whether or not they should stay at an inn that night.

_Non, betta t' go now an' no' put i' off._

Then he flagged a taxi down. He knew the fare would probably be doubled once he told the driver the destination, but he wasn't quite ready to let them know he was back. Thankfully the cabbie didn't just refuse to give them a ride, probably thanks to the sleeping Sherry. The drive was still quieter even than the plane. The cab stopped and the driver hurried to unload their things.

As he drove away, Psyc gasped. "This is your house?"

"Non, 's mon pères," Remy said as he walked forward. "Bu' i' is my nuthouse."

Then he buzzed the intercom. A youthful voice came back.

"'f yo' ringin' de bell we don' e'pect yo' t' be 'ere. Tu t'appelles commont?"

Remy sighed, then said, "Bonjour Lapin, Remy f'got 'is key."

There was a pause followed by, "Remy?" in an unbelieving voice. Then a buzz and Remy pushed the gate open.

Psyc followed Remy looking around at the grounds.

As they neared the door it opened, followed by a cheerful voice, "Li'e yo' evah needed a key."

The speaker was a guy about Remy's age. His hair was red and short and he looked like he would smile his life away He extended his hand and Remy took it. A second later he was jerked into a tight embrace.

"'s abou' time yo' came 'ome,"

Remy knew the exact moment Lapin saw Psyc and Sherry, he lost his relaxed manner, pulled back and asked, "Who yo' friends?"

"'s a long story, bu' i' yo' turn dem 'way, Remy goin' wid dem."

"O' course we won' turn dem 'way." The new voice came from inside. "Lapin, where yo' manners? Bring dem inside, de girl is already asleep."

Lapin ushered them inside and Henri embraced Remy.

"I'm glad yo' too' de offer," he told them. "An' as Lapin demonstrated pe'ple do wan' y' 'ere."

"Remy jus' 'ere fo' a visit," he told his brother. "An' meant wha' 'e said. I' Psyc and Chèrie 'ave t' go, den 'e goin' wid dem."

"Don' worry," Henri assured him, "We won' chase dem 'way. De petite will ma'e frien's in no time an', Psyc did yo' call 'er?" Henri grinned, "Yo' migh' wan' t' keep an eye on 'er. Dat is i' yo' plan on keepin' 'er."

"Yo' can' keep wha's no' yo's," Remy told Henri watching Psyc as Lapin showed them to their rooms. He missed the skeptical look Henri threw his way.

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome. 


	5. Vacation Encounters

Vacation Encounters

"Henri?" Psyc jumped when Lapin spoke suddenly. "Wha' room do yo' wan' me t' pu' dem in? Tu père woul' throw a fit i' we pu' dem in wid Remy."

Henri sighed, "Jus' pu' dem in one o' de guest rooms, Lapin. An' discret! We don' wan' t' wake de petit fills."

"Désolé," Lapin stage whispered back and turned to Psyc. "Righ' dis way mademoiselle," he told her with a grin.

_Guess it does run in the family, _she thought and smiled back.

When they reached the room, and she lay Sherry down on the bed, Lapin spoke quietly, "Oncle Jean-Luc will pro'ly move yo' t'morrow mais dis should do fo' t'night."

"Thank you," Psyc said, smiling at his slight rambling. "You're name's Lapin, right?"

"Oui an' yo's i'?"

"I'm Psyc," she said, as she offered her hand and was only slightly surprised when he kissed it instead of shaking it. Lapin left after that and Psyc lay down next to Sherry, falling asleep almost instantly.

* * *

Remy and Henri were sitting in the den when Lapin came in. 

"Dey're both asleep," he informed them.

"S', Remy, 'ow lon' yo' goin' t' be 'ere dis time?" Henri asked nonchalantly.

"On'y a week," Remy told him. "'s 'winter break' at l'ecole."

"Yo' ready to' go an' see Oncle Jean-Luc?" Lapin asked.

"Non," Remy said, standing, "mais Remy migh' as well ge' i' ovah wid."

* * *

"Sir!" 

The sergeant's shout broke into General Nick Fury's thoughts. Fury strode across the gently vibrating floor of the helli-carrier to stand behind the speaker and view the screen.

"Report!" he said, realizing it was the man in charge of keeping tabs on Larla-Rose.

"Sir, she left the school. The boy and little girl are with her, the other girl is not."

"Where is she?"

"New Orleans, sir."

"Get me the background on whoever, if anyone, they are staying with."

"Already done, sir," the sergeant said, pulling up the files on-screen and read, "the boy is the younger son of Jean-Luc LeBeau, adopted, and the family has lived in the same house for years. They have more money than Bill Gates and the house is more a mansion than anything else. Also, and this might interest you, they are the head family of the Thieves Guild. I believe you have had numerous dealings with Jean-Luc in the past."

Fury nodded. "What the hell is she doing there?"

"As I stated sir, the boy is his adopted son. She seems to have gone with him, and, if you recall, sir, it was at the upcoming Mardi-gras festival that we lost John and his wife seven years ago."

"Yes, I remember. Notify me when she leaves. I believe this trip could be just the opportunity we've been waiting for."

* * *

Remy stormed into his own room after over an hour in his father's study. 

_Well, dat coulda gone worse, mais i' coulda gone a lo' betta, too._

He closed the door, flipped the lock, dropped his duffle in the desk chair and fell forward onto his bed.

"Mon dieu," he muttered into his pillow. "Why Remy evah decide to come back 'ere?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the past hour away. After a moment he smiled. Whether he had meant to or not, Lapin had put Psyc and Sherry in the room right next to his. He could feel the contentment they emanated and it helped him calm down. He rolled over and put his hands behind his head staring in the dark up at the ceiling.

_Alrigh', _he admitted to himself, _Remy came back 'cause dey're 'is family. Mais why di' I brin' de girls? Dey woulda been fine wid e'ryone dat stayed._

Forcing himself to be brutally honest with himself, Remy admitted one last thing before he allowed himself to fall asleep.

_Remy, yo' foo', 'ow yo' gon' t' keep dem safe betta den de entire team?

* * *

_

Psyc woke gradually. She felt the warm body snuggled next to hers and smiled, knowing it was Sherry. It took her a moment to remember where she was, looking over at the clock she saw it was 10:30.

_Well, I slept in, _she thought.

She lay still for a moment trying to figure out why she had woken up. It didn't take long; she heard another quiet knock at the door.

_Oh, that's why._

Quietly and gently, she tucked Remy the panther under Sherry's arm. She opened the door and there stood the boy from last night, Lapin, if she remembered correctly. He held his finger to his lips and motioned to Sherry. Psyc took the hint and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her.

"Désolé," Lapin said as soon as the door was closed. "I di'n' wan' t' wa'e de petit fills."

"That's okay," Psyc assured him. "After all, it's your house. But what did you want me for?"

"Tante Mattie wan's t' see yo',"

"Who?"

Lapin just smiled and led her down the hall and stairs. Finally she asked where Remy was.

"'e's still sleepin'," Lapin told her. "'e wa' up a lo' latta den yo' las' nigh'. 'e'll pro'ly ge' up 'bout noon."

"Oh," Psyc said dully as she was led into the kitchen. In front of the stove stood a woman Psyc had seen before but never expected to see again.

"Bonjour chille," Mattie said with a smile. "I see yo' made a full recovery."

"Yes," Psyc told her, not noticing Lapin had left. "And thank you. If not for you, I would probably still be in that coma."

"Non chille, o' woul' 'ave woken up 'ventually."

Psyc sat in silence for a moment before asking if she could be of any assistance with the cooking.

"I don't really know much more than the basics, but I am good at following directions."

Mattie smiled gently, "Alrigh' chille, yo' c'n do de choppin' an' I'll do de actual cookin'."

Half an hour later, while Psyc was stirring the pot and Mattie was frying meat for lunch, Remy wandered in with Sherry.

"Mornin'," he said with a grin.

"Mornin' nothing," Psyc told him returning his smile, "it's afternoon."

"Psyc," Sherry said excitedly, "I got to wander around the house! It's bigger then the school!"

"Really?" Psyc asked, continuing to stir.

"Yeah, I was looking for you or Remy," Sherry told her. "Finally Henri found me and showed me which room was Remy's. It was locked."

Psyc noticed Mattie and Remy both smiled and tried to hide it.

Sherry continued, "I got to do my trick on the door and it worked!"

"Don' know why Remy bothered wid de lock," he said, "mais 'e di'n' t'ink dat Sherry woul' be de one t' come in an' jump on 'is bed."

Everyone laughed.

* * *

Psyc stood outside the den. She had spent the past half hour looking for Remy and hadn't found him. Instead she knocked and interrupted Henri and Sherry. 

"Um… Henri?" she asked reluctantly. "I'm gonna go for a walk."

"D'accord, d' yo' wan' me t' sen' Pierre wid yo'?"

"No, I know where I'm going," she assured him. "But are you okay with Sherry until Remy makes himself apparent?"

"Oui. Mercy will be 'ere soon, don' worry, we'll kee' 'er busy."

"Thanks," Psyc said, then smiled and hugged Sherry. "I'll be back soon."

If she had been paying a little more attention, Psyc might have noticed she was being followed, but her mind was elsewhere as she walked down the drive, out the gate, and down the street. She wasn't sure why she felt she had to do this, but she did. She paused on the outside of the cemetery gate.

_Well, you came this far, you might as well get this over with, _she told herself.

She wandered between the graves until she found what she was looking for. She had watched from a distance as the burial took place, and now, looking at the pedestal topped with an angel folding it's wings around itself and bowing it's head, she fell to her knees and the tears that had failed to fall all those years ago, finally did so.

* * *

Remy watched Psyc stop at a grave, saw her fall to her knees, and saw her shoulders begin to shake with silent tears. He felt her sorrow as it flowed out away from her as if it were his own. He went forward and gently took her in his arms. He looked at the headstone and read aloud: 

"I' lovin' mem'ry o' de Datarazanoff family,

Husban', wife, an' daughta

Respected by mos',

Missed by all."

After a moment, he asked, "Lar'a…who were dey?"

Instead of answering, she leaned into him and hid her face in his shoulder as if to keep him from seeing any more of her tears. Soon the shaking stopped and along with it the tears. Psyc pulled away and sat staring at the grave.

"We used to come here when dad didn't have to work," she began quietly and without preamble. "It was always more of a vacation, and that's what we treated it like. Dad would come home with the tickets and I'd get so excited. I loved it here. Seven years ago we came down just in time for the Mardi-Gras festival."

She paused and Remy wondered why she was telling him about her family as they sat in the cemetery.

"We'd only been here for two days when it happened. Someone planted a bomb in our house. My mom had stayed home; she didn't feel to well, and dad took me to the festival. He went back to check on her and let me stay to watch the parade. All I heard was the explosion. I don't know what made me do it, but I 'ran'; I hid. I watched the ceremony from a distance. Eventually I guess they added me to the headstone. When it was first put up it just said 'husband, wife'. This is the first time I've been back since."

"Why would' someone plan' a bomb in yo' house?" Remy asked, trying to keep his voice steady. All of New Orleans remembered that explosion.

"Because of my dad. He…he made a lot of enemies."

"Wha' di' 'e do? Wa' 'e a lawyer or somet'in'?"

"Worse. He was the top agent in S.H.I.E.L.D., bested only by General Nick Fury himself. Guess it wasn't good enough, huh?"

Finally she looked back at him. There wasn't anything he could say, there was always someone out there that was better.

"C'mon," he said as last standing and offering his hand to help her up. "Le's ge' back t' de 'ouse. No tellin' wha' Henri taugh' Sherry dis time."

Psyc laughed, "Your family is really something else," she told him.

"An' yo' don' know de half o' i'," he muttered.

* * *

"I' she yo' lil' sister?" Mercy asked Psyc as Remy and Henri watched Sherry try to unlock a combination lock. Remy and Psyc looked at each other. 

"Um…not exactly," Psyc said. "She's um…" she trailed off.

"She's no' relate' t' Lar'a," Remy ignored the foot stomped down on his own when he used her real name. "She' 'n orphan, we jus' ta'e care o' 'er."

"She latched on to us to replace her real parents," Psyc explained. "So I don't know what she'd be called in relation to me."

"What do yo' pa'ents t'ink 'bout dis?" Henri asked.

"They don't," Psyc answered.

"Dey don'' care dat yo' takin' care o' 'er?"

"They don't know," Psyc said, her voice void of feeling. "For the past seven years all they have known is the dirt above their heads."

Henri and Mercy traded a glance and decided to drop it. Instead Henri asked if the were going to the bayou dance that night. Remy shrugged and glanced at Psyc, who in turn glanced at Sherry.

"Don' worry," Mercy assured them. "We'll watch 'er. An' I won' le' our junior professor teach 'er anyt'in' else dat migh' ge' 'er in trou'le a' de school."

"Hey!" Henri countered. "I wa' jus' teachn' 'er de basics. Dere not'in' wron' wid dat an' yo' nevah know when i' woul' be useful."

"Jus' don' teach 'er anyt'in' else," Remy told his brother. "She ain't in an' she ain't goin' t' be eider."

"Remy," Henri frowned, "yo' ma'e de family soun' li'e a bad t'ing."

"Non, 's no' bad, mais, she still no' getting' involved, neit'er o' dem are."

He stood and held out his hand to Psyc smiling as he helped her up.

"Yo' wan' t' see wha' a real par'y is?" he asked her.

Grinning back, Psyc shrugged off the comments she had just heard, he'd probably explain later.

"I'm always ready for a party!" she told him. "How long do I have to get ready?"

Mercy laughed. "I' don' star' fo' another trois hours."

* * *

Remy was back in the den when Psyc came down. He had showered and changed, now he stood leaning on the fireplace mantle. 

"So…where is the party?" Psyc asked.

"'s bein' held in de 'city hall'," Remy said turning.

_She is definitely gon' t' ge' some 'ttention, _he thought, looking her up and down.

She wore a strapless, sunset colored dress that lay over her like paint and stopped just above mid thigh. With it she wore black leather boots that zipped and came neatly to her knee, leaving a nice expanse of leg showing between the two. As always she had skipped make-up, but her black hair had been crimped and rippled down her back like a waterfall with her red bangs in ringlets that framed her face.

"Am I over dressed?" she asked noting his black slacks and T-shirt with his usual brown trench coat thrown over.

"Non," Remy assured her. "Remy just don' ge' dressed up." After a moment a thought struck him and he asked, "C'n yo' ride a bike in dat?"

"Yeah, I'll just go 'side saddle'. It's no prob."

Just as she finished assuring Remy, she could ride, Lapin called down the hall, "Remy! Are yo' comin' or no'?"

He entered the room and stopped.

"Oui, we're comin'," Remy motioned for Psyc to go first and he and Lapin followed.

"Does she dresse li'e dat of'en?" Lapin asked quietly to his cousin.

"Non, an' i's a goo' t'ing too," Remy said, shaking his head.

"Oui," Lapin agreed. "Or yo' woul' nevah fin' an end t' de fights."

When they got to the 'city hall', Remy and Lapin were bombarded by greetings.

"Wow," Psyc commented. "Everyone knows you guys."

"Yeah," Remy laughed, "an' we know mos' o' dem too."

The music that flowed out the door was loud and pounding, with a fast beat. The floor was already packed even though the dance had barely begun. Remy smiled as Psyc laughed and disappeared onto the dance floor.

"Remy LeBeau," a voice called from behind him. "'s 'bout time yo' came back."

"Bonjour, Belladonna," Remy said without turning.

"Where yo' been?" she asked. "Yo' been gone fo' 'most two years."

"Remy been around," he told her. "Why yo' care?"

Finally, he turned around and faced her. Belladonna Boudreaux wore a black cat suit with flames running up the sides and boots similar to Psyc's. Her blond hair had been curled and there was a sparkle in her eyes.

"C'mon, de second heir to de Thieves Guild disappears an' I'm no' 'posed t' care?"

"'cordin' t' mos' traditions, Remy shoul' be starin' a' yo' knife righ' 'bout now," he pointed out with a grin.

"Since when d' yo' care 'bout de rules?"

Before she could answer Lapin called from the dance floor, "Remy, yo' plan on stayin' in de shadows all nigh'?"

Remy and Belle laughed.

After a while, she asked, "S' who's de girl dat came wid yo' an' Lapin?"

"She a frien' from de school."

Belle laughed, "When wa' de las' time yo' were in school?"

"Two days ago," Remy told her before disappearing onto the dance floor.

It wasn't hard to find Psyc. She was in the middle of a large group containing Pierre and, to Remy's surprise, Pierre. Remy integrated himself into the group easily.

"When did yo' ge' back," he asked Pierre. "Henri said yo' were ou' on business."

"Oui," Pierre told him with a grin, "mais, I decided t' stop be de party 'fore goin' back t' de 'ouse."

"Are yo' tellin' me yo' 'aven't e'en taken de stuff back t' de 'ouse?"

"Don' worry s' much," Pierre told him, "de car's locked."

"Pierre, yo' know 's well 's me dat does words mean rien round 'ere."

"Mon dieu, Remy, yo' back fo' un day an' yo' 'ready lecturin' 'bou' de guild rules!"

Remy opened his mouth to respond when a laughing, dancing Psyc stepped between them and grabbed his hands.

"Why so serious Remy? I thought you were going to show me what a real party is? This is supposed to be fun and I don't have to read your mind to tell you haven't started with the fun yet."

Remy couldn't help but smile and laugh, "Lar'a yo' couldn' read Remy's min' i' yo' wanted t'."

"That," she told him, "is not the point. The point is **you**," and she poked him in the chest, "haven't started with the fun yet."

"Je suis désolé, chèrie," he joked, "mais Remy'll fix dat in un moment."

Psyc smiled and stepped out of the way as Pierre asked, "I' she really stayin' a' de 'ouse?"

"Oui, mais Remy ain't s' sure dat wa' a bien idea now."

"Looks li'e Bella Donna's go' some competition," Lapin piped in. "Half de people 'ere can' d'cide who t' pay 'ttention t'."

Remy groaned inwardly. He had noticed the same thing.

_'s gonna be a lon' nigh'._

It was because of that thought that he was surprised when less than fifteen minutes latter, he found the two girls laughing together.

_Well, leas' dey ain't fightin'.

* * *

_

"Yo' kiddin'!" Lapin said in disbelief.

It was a quarter to twelve and the party was still going strong. Remy, Psyc, Belle, Pierre, and Lapin had claimed a table in the corner and had been exchanging stories for about half and hour.

"'e blew in yo' balcony doors?" he continued.

"Yeah," Psyc told them, "then he just stood there with his hair and coat blowin' in the wind."

"Wha' wa' s' intrestin' in dere, Remy?" Belle asked laughing.

"Rien," Remy told her. "Wa' jus' Lar'a an' Jazz dancin' wid Sherry."

"That's the seven year old," Psyc put in.

"S' yo' jus' blew yo' way int' 'er room fo' no reason?" Pierre asked.

"Non," Remy assured his cousin, "Remy 'ad intended to ta'e Sherry wid 'im."

"And you shoulda seen the way he froze when Jazz started to circle him," Psyc laughed.

"Yo' woul' freeze t' i' dat femme wa' lookin' a' yo' li'e she wa' gon' t' bite yo'."

Psyc checked her watch and sobered instantly.

"Shit!" she said. "It's a quarter past twelve!"

"S'?" her four comrades asked in unison.

"Jean-Luc is gonna kill us!" she said starting to get up.

Laughing, Remy put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Yo' go' a lo' t' learn 'bou' dis city an' Remy's family."

* * *

They finally headed back to the house at about 3:30. By the time they got there, Psyc was more than half asleep and simply leaning on Remy. Her arms, while still around his waist, would have done nothing to prevent her from falling. Remy parked the bike and dismounted. Psyc tried to follow but her legs wouldn't seem to hold her. Remy caught her arm before she could fall and laughed softly. 

"M'be Remy shoulda brough' yo' back de firs' time yo' said somet'in'."

After a few paces it became obvious her motor functions were shot, so Remy simply picked her up. At first she objected, but she quickly gave up and simply leaned into him. She was asleep by the time they got to her room. He put her gently in the bed and Sherry automatically snuggled closer to her.

_Now dat,_ Remy thought, _i' a Kodak moment. _

He left the room, closing the door quietly.

Back in his room, Remy sat in an over-stuffed armchair in front of the fireplace. His thoughts traveled back over the past few hours and he grinned. It had been nice to see Psyc just have a good time, not worry about anything. His smile faded a little when it occurred to him that it didn't happen very often. He fell asleep in the chair, still wondering what it was that kept the shadows on her face.

* * *

The next day, Psyc once again found herself in the kitchen only this time it was full to bursting with people and laughter. Psyc helped Mercy mix what had to be the most cake mix she had ever seen, and Sherry sat at the only clean spot in the huge kitchen drawing. 

"Look!" Sherry said just as the finished mixing the batter. She held up what she had been working on. It was a giant rolling thundercloud. "I made it for 'Ro."

Psyc smiled, looking at the storm picture, "I'm sure Ororo would love it."

"What do you think, Mercy?" Sherry asked eagerly.

"C'est tres bien, petite," Mercy told her, "mais I don' know de person yo' givin' i' t'."

"Ya, yo do," Sherry insisted, drawing puzzled looks from both of them. "I heard 'Ro and Remy talking. She used to live here too and was a temporary part of your family."

"Yo' mean Ororo Munroe?" Mercy asked, shocked.

"Yep!" Sherry said with a grin.

"Hey, Mercy, heads up!" someone yelled from the other side of the room. Mercy caught the bottle without turning. "Yo' see 'Ro?" she asked, still not quite able to believe it.

"Yeah," Psyc told her, "all the time. She goes to school with me an' Remy."

* * *

The cooking was called to a halt at a quarter to eight. Remy and Psyc tucked Sherry in bed and left the room quietly. 

"I think I'm gonna take a walk," she told Remy when he asked what she had planned for the rest of the night.

"Lar'a…" Remy began.

"Don't worry, I'm not going back," she assured him. "I just wanna get out in the night. It's nice here, not cold like at the school."

Remy laughed, "O' course i's not col'. We in de south, i' nevah co' 'ere." Then he grew sober, "Jus' b' careful," he warned.

"Don't worry," Psyc laughed, "I'm a big girl. I tie my own shoes and everything." She grinned and waved, heading toward the door.

"Oui," he told her, knowing she wouldn't hear. "Remy know dat, mais yo' don' know jus' 'ow dang'rous i' is fo' a gues' o' dis 'ouse t' go walkin' 'round 'lone." He paused for just a moment more, then, making sure all the pockets held at least one deck of cards, grabbed his trench coat and followed. He kept back as he had when she went to the cemetery. He was slightly surprised she didn't realize he was there, but not many caught the second heir to the Thieves' Guild when he didn't want them to. She didn't go to the city, but the trees along the river's edge. She stopped in a pool of moonlight and Remy faded into the shadows. He watched her close her eyes and turn her face toward the sky, a slight smile on her lips and was just starting to relax. Remy thought that maybe he was wrong when he was proven right. Two figures stepped out of the shadows. It was too dark to seem them clearly, the moon had disappeared behind the clouds, but he knew who they were all the same.

"Wha' d' yo' know," one of them said. "S' i' wasn't jus' de clothes, party attitude and amount of alcohol consumed dat made 'er look good." His companion laughed, and Remy fumed. Psyc slowly lowered her face and coolly met their eyes. "Yo' no' scared?" he asked.

"No Datarazanoff is afraid of a couple of thugs in the night."

"De Datarazanoffs 'ave been dead for seven years," Gris-Gris laughed. "So say de papers, so say de 'ead stone."

Remy felt more than saw Psyc's smirk.

_Crazy femme, _he thought, _she 'as no idea wha' she' facin'._

"So, yo' de LeBeau's new recruit," Julien said, once again taking the lead. "Well, yo' jus' made a bi' mistake." A look of confused surprise crossed Psyc's face and Remy stepped out of the shadows.

"Leave 'er 'lone, Julien," Remy said, his eyes glowing slightly and giving away the anger his calm voice did not. "Yo' go' no business messin' wid neutrals."

"Neutral?" Gris-Gris laughed unbelievingly. "I' she's a neutral, den 'm de Queen o' Spain."

"Well, where yo' dress, yo' highness? She ain't par' o' de family an' ne'er will be."

"Den yo' realy 'ave no 'entions towards 'er?" Julien asked. "Good. Belle seemed t' ge' 'lon' wid 'er pre'y good…m'be we coul' brin' 'er int' de fol'."

Psyc put the mental equivalent of a restraining hand on Remy's shoulder when he would have lunged forward.

_"He's baiting you,"_ she told him calmly. _"Don't let him get the better of you."_

Remy started with no outward sign. No one should have been able to get in his mind like that.

_"We gon' talk 'bout 'ow yo' c'n d' dat la'er,"_ he told her. _"Righ' now jus' keep quie' an' ignore anyt'ing dat sound strange."_

_"Right…"_ Psyc laughed. _"That'll happen."_

_"Lar'a, please…fo' once jus' listen t' me,"_ Remy pleaded.

_"Oh, alright,"_ she conceded, _"but don't expect me to actually forget anything…and if things heat up, you know I'm jumping in."_

_"From de pan t' de flames," _he told her with a slight laugh, and then returned his attention to the assassins.

"Non, Julien," Remy told him. "Remy tol' yo' she no' go' t' be par' o' dis an' 'e mean' i'."

"T' bad," Julien smirked, "'cause she's goin' back wid us… o' she ain' goin' back a' all." Remy didn't need Psyc to tell him Julien was still egging him on, but he also knew he had no intention of letting them leave without a fight.

"Lar'a…" he said, coming to stand at her side.

"I know you aren't telling me to get out of her," she interrupted, "because you know I'm not going to leave you all the fun."

"Yo' don' know wha' yo' gettin' int'," Remy told her.

"Why don' yo' fill 'er in," Gris-Gris suggested. "See 'ow lon' she gon' stay wid yo' knowin' dat yo' de second heir t'…"

"Shut-up, Gris-Gris," Remy said, his eyes sparking once again, "o' Remy gon' t' ma'e yo'."

"Why don' de bot' o' yo' shut i' an' le' de testosterone level drop back t' normal 'fore I go ge' mon pére t' separate yo'." Belladonna stepped forward. "Julien, yo' know betta den t' mess wid neutrals. An' Gris-Gris, yo' know betta den t' go flappin' yo' lips li'e dat."

The look on her face told them all this conversation was over, and the tension told them it had been a close one. Julien and Gris-Gris threw one last look at Belle, then left.

"Merci, Belle," Remy said, "bu'…"

"I know," Belle said, "yo' coul' a ta'en dem. Mon dieu, Remy, yo' may b' used t' figh's li'e dis, bu' is Psyc?"

For the millionth time that night, Remy caught the odd look Belle gave Psyc.

"Sometime Remy wonders," he muttered.

* * *

After the encounter, Remy didn't bother to hide, he just walked beside Psyc. Her mind wandered and she thought bout what she had heard. Not a lot of it made sense, and she respected Remy too much to actually go in his mind to find the answers. She was still stuck on the fact that the others had known her last name and had laughed at the fact that they were all dead. 

"Remy," she said suddenly. "What was that all about? I mean, I know some things…"

Remy gently placed his hand over her mouth.

"Don' worry 'bout i'," he told her. "'s jus' a feud dat go' back quite a few years."

Psyc let it drop and fell back into step with Remy.

"Yo' know where yo goin', chérie?" he asked after a moment.

"Not really…just wandering."

"Well den, loo' 'head." Psyc looked up and saw the cemetery. "Remy though' yo' weren' gon' come 'ere."

"I wasn't…" she said stopping. "We're leaving in the morning, right?"

"Oui…" Remy answered.

"I…I'm gonna go back, just for a few minutes. I'll meet you back at the house."

"Lar'a, Remy don' t'ink dis such a goo' idea."

"Please Remy? I…I just need a few minutes… to say good-bye one last time."

"Alrigh'," Remy agreed reluctantly, "mais i' yo' no' back in half an' hour, Remy gon' ge' mad… den 'e gon come ge' yo'."

"Agreed," Psyc said and they parted ways.

* * *

Psyc hadn't been at the grave five minutes when a twig snapped behind her. 

"What do you want, Uncle Nick?" she asked without turning.

"Is it a crime now to visit the grave of an old friend?"

"Don't lie to me and don't beat around the bush. What do you want?"

"Alright, I'll be brief then, Larla-Rose." Psyc flinched inwardly at the way he said her name, in the command voice she had heard used all too many times on his troops. She didn't have to read his mind to know what was coming. "We need you to come and work for us. I meant what was said at the school. You'd make one hell of an agent."

"You forgot on thing," she told him, with ice in her voice and eyes. "I know what happens to people that work for you, remember? I heard the explosion. I saw the results."

"Give me ten minutes to explain, then you decide and you never have to see me again."

"Why do I not believe you? You've got five before I turn and walk away."

"A terrorist named Eric Lehnsherr, calls himself Magneto, has set up some sort of training base. We need you and your friends, to infiltrate and bring back information."

"What aren't you telling me? Why us?"

"He only takes in mutants. He's had encounters with the X-Men before, but being new to the group, he doesn't know about you. Plus I know I can trust you to be loyal and lead the others. To get them in and out safely."

Psyc paused for a moment. "And what if I say no? No, I won't put my friends in danger. No, I won't lead them to the lion's den just so they can be devoured alive. What then, Uncle Nick? What if I say no?"

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome. 


	6. Old Friends and Fury's Answer

Old Friends and Fury's Answer

Psyc, Sherry and Gambit laughed and joked as they exited the plane. Vacation had been fun, but they were all glad to be back in New York. Even Remy, who's family they had stayed with in New Orleans, was relieved to be returning to the school.

Walking out of the airport, they each held one of Sherry's hands and swung her through the air. Sherry's feet hit the ground and the girl struggled free and ran forward.

"Sara! Jazz!" she called happily. The two little girls met each other halfway, knocking each other down and laughing hysterically. Psyc ad Gambit approached slower, grinning.

"So… how was Mardi Gras?" Jazz asked as she helped with the bags.

"It was fun," Psyc replied, not realizing she just gave Jazz the perfect opening.

"How fun?" Jazz took it and ran. Psyc lightly punched her friend on the arm, while Remy simply smirked.

"How'd you get the Rolls?" Psyc asked the question, quickly changing the subject. Jazz just laughed.

"It was the only car there."

"Wha'?" Remy asked, confused. "Where i' e'eryone?"

"Not sure. Nate and I just got back a few hours ago and I was nominated to play chauffer." Jazz slammed the trunk and turned with a grin. "So… your limo awaits!"

The drive back was anything but quiet. Everyone talked to everyone talked to everyone and the little ones laughed a lot. The cars were all in the garage when they pulled in.

"Well," Jazz said, "looks like they're back."

Sara and Sherry dashed into the house to greet the teams leaving the older people to bring in the bags. Jazz helped Remy and Psyc carry their bags to their rooms. Psyc had just started to unpack when the prof. called.

"Psyc, Jazz, Remy… could you come to the den please. There are a few people I'd like you to meet."

"Of course, prof. We'll be right down."

The thought came from all of them simultaneously and brought a smile to the prof's face.

"They'll be right down."

He spoke to everyone in the room. All his old students were present (Scott, Jean, Piotr, Ororo, Hank, Bobby and Logan), along with two new ones that arrived over break. Kurt, who was a demon looking teleporter, and…

"Jean-Paul!" Psyc's yell preceded her into the room. The boy turned pushing his blue tinted sunglasses into his light brown hair.

"Larla-Rose?" The shock faded from his face and the two met halfway across the floor and pulled each other into a tight embrace.

"Oh my God!" Psyc pulled back, her eyes sparkling and a grin on her face. She missed the glare Remy shot at the boy. "Jean-Paul…what are you doing here."

"Me?" The boy's surprise faded and he laughed. "At least it's still common knowledge that I'm alive. Where have you been?"

Psyc shrugged. "Oh, you know, here, there, wherever I want. I've been on vacation."

"Right…for seven years? And who's your friend?"

Psyc smiled. "Jean-Paul, Jazz, Jazz, Jean-Paul."

Before anything else could be said, Xavier broke in. "I see you two know each other."

"Know each other?" Jean-Paul laughed. "That's a bit of an understatement."

Xavier saw Gambit tense and saw where this seemed to be headed.

"Psyc," he sent, "Please explain this quickly before Gambit takes it upon himself to reduce our numbers."

Psyc looked over her should as she realized what he meant. She took a few steps back from Jean-Paul and looked around the room.

"Jean-Paul and I grew up together. He might as well be my brother." Jean-Paul didn't seem to notice that anything had been wrong or the tension that drained from the room as Gambit visibly relaxed.

"We were practically inseparable," he said with a grin. "Until she disappeared. We all thought she was dead."

Psyc shrugged. "But what are you doing here? A sudden, horrid idea hit her. "Uncle Nick didn't send you, did he?"

Jean-Paul shook his head. "Last time I saw him, he didn't say much."

"When was that?" she prompted, not able to simply let it drop.

"About a week ago. Just before I came here."

"Son of a bitch!" Psyc swore savagely, drawing gasps from the seven year olds. "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Jean-Paul was confused and not bothering to hide it.

Psyc's response was to let fly another round of curses. Logan had more sense and told the boy calmly, "Kid, Jury's know she's here for months."

Jean-Paul's mouth dropped open in disbelief. The next several hours were devoted to catching everyone up on what had been going on, though Psyc neglected to mention her visit in the cemetery.

* * *

"Sounds like you've been just about everywhere," Jean-Paul said slightly envious of his friend. Psyc shrugged and he smirked. He couldn't help but think of the reaction the "kids back home" would have if they could see her now. In the seven years she had been "dead", Larla-Rose had grown from a small, emerald-eyed, impish tomboy, into a sassy, flirtation heart breaker. Lying in the grass with her eyes closed against the sun, arms crossed behind her head and her obsidian and flame locks fanned out over the ground she looked like a fallen angel. At least until you took in the rest of her. Her leather top was really nothing more than a bikini. Her low-ride pants stopped a good three inches below her belly button, showing her flat stomach. She even managed to make the combat boots and trench coat (which Gambit had insisted she war due to the bite in New York's February air) look stylish. She would, he knew, turn the head of any straight guy whose path she crossed. 

"And what about you?" Her voice snapped him out of his trance as she sat up. "Still the most popular guy in school?"

Jean-Paul laughed and sent a stone skipping across the surface of the lake. "Not exactly." Psyc gave him a curious look and he explained. "It's hard to find friends when you're an out of the closet homosexual."

"No way!" Psyc burst out. A quick glance showed she was, to his relief, smiling. "Then when we first came in the room, it wasn't Jazz you were asking about, it was…"

"Gambit," he told her, nodding.

She laughed until tears ran down her face and Jean-Paul, knowing she wasn't being cruel, waited for an explanation. "Jean-Paul," she gasped gleefully, "I always knew we had a lot in common, but I never expected it to include our choice in partners." Seeing he still didn't quite understand, she explained. "Gambit's my boyfriend." For a fraction of a second, he looked shocked, then joined in her laughter.

* * *

Psyc lay awake long after everyone else had drifted to the land of dreams. Jean-Paul had no clue wheat the SHIELD General had planned for her. His mind was so open, it was almost sinfully easy to get that bit of information. With an exasperated sigh she snatched the pillow from behind her head and covered her face with it, thinking maybe the suddenly over bright and offensive moonlight was responsible for the night's insomnia. When that didn't work, she threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. 

She headed for the balcony door but at the last minute, detoured to her dresser. Without really looking, she opened the top drawer, reached into the back right corner and pulled something out. She went the last few stapes to the door, threw it open and went out onto the balcony. From there, it was a simple thing to swing out into the tree that Gambit had once used to gain access to the room to try and take Sherry. A week after she had first come to the institute, Psyc had discovered that about half-way up the tree right by the trunk was a little cleft about four feet cubed with only two braches near each other that, once a decent piece of ply-wood had been placed over them to form a platform, made a nice secluded retreat.

That was where she went, glad to see that with the sky as clear as it was the moon gave plenty of light to see by. Once she was comfortably situated, she finally looked down at what she had grabbed. The old fanny-pack had faded from its original deep, rich black, to a dull dingy gray. Both the strap and the zipper had given out long ago and several places were threadbare to the point of transparency. She hadn't opened it in two years, but it went with her wherever she went. Now she undid the safety pins that held it shut, carefully placing all seven a safe distance from the edge of the platform. She pulled the items inside out, one by one and placed them in a neat line.

She barely glanced at some of the items, but for the first time in years, she stopped to really look at the pictures. Carefully, she replaced the old nightstick and Polaroid camera; she sat back, ready to look into the past. The pictures were in chronological order, starting with the day her parents and she arrived in New Orleans and ending with the picture of the funeral. There were three of them. The fourth was older, and it held her attention the longest. It showed her at age eight with another girl whose blond hair and blue eyes were in stark contrast with her own dark hair and green eyes.

"C'mon out of the shadow, Remy." Psyc spoke without looking up. Remy sat next to her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Wha' are yo' doin' ou' 'ere in yo' pajamas?" he asked, softly adding with a small laugh, "di' yo' fo'ge' dat we're back in de nort'?"

"No," she assured him, leaning into him and putting her head on his shoulder. "I just couldn't sleep."

"Wha' were yo' lookin' a'?" he asked, curiously.

"Just some old pictures," she told him, handing them over and reaching for the blanket she left out.

* * *

Gambit took his time looking at each picture. The first one was easy to tell. It was her parents outside the New Orleans airport. The second was just as easy. It was a smiling Psyc at a Mardi Gras parade. From all the black and the tears on the face of a boy he recognized as Jean-Paul, the third one was her parent's funeral. 

He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the third picture. Psyc was a year or two younger than in the other picture and she was laughing along with another girl. It was the other girl that caught his attention. Her smile was just as big as Psyc's and their arms were thrown over each other's shoulders. Her long blond hair flowed freely and her bangs fell into impossibly blue eyes. Even at eight years old, she was a beauty. His eyes clicked down to the words written on the white strip at the bottom in a child's unsteady scrawl. "Death Seeker and Goldie locks." A name under each girl.

"Lar'a," he asked hesitantly as she spread the blanket she kept wrapped in canvas over them. "Who's de femme in de picture wid yo'? De blon' one?"

"Just an old friend," Psyc said with a shrug before once again leaning against him.

"Bu' wha's 'er name?" Remy pressed. To his surprise, she laughed.

"You know… I don't remember. I suppose I knew it at one time, but after like the first week, we started using these silly little nicknames, we used them so long I guess I just forgot her real name." Psyc tipped her head back against his shoulder to see his face. "Why?"

"'cause Remy knows 'er," he said matter-of-factly.

Psyc sat up and turned to face him. "Are you sure?"

Remy nodded. "E'en a' eight years ol', dere's no mistakin' Belladonna Boudreaux."

"Belle?" Psyc said, shocked. "You mean…"

"Oui," Remy said, smirking a bit. "Loo's li'e dere wa' no reason t' introduce yo' two after all."

Psyc couldn't help but laugh. "I went to a party with one of my oldest friends and didn't even know it!"

Remy nodded and pulled her back against him. "Lar'a…Remy knows somet'in' been bot'erin' yo'," he said quietly, not wanting to pressure her. "Wha' 's i'?"

Psyc sighed and snuggled closer to him. "I promise I'll tell you tomorrow…I just don't want to have to tell it twice and Jazz needs to hear it. Probably Nathan too."

"Alrigh'," Remy said and let it drop.

* * *

Jazz woke, as usual when there wasn't early morning practice, to the sun shining on her face. Her first reaction was to growl and clamp a pillow over her eyes. 

"Psyc," she mumbled through the pillow. "Close the curtain, would ya?" After an appropriate amount of time, she peeled the pillow away only to be assaulted once again by the rays. "God damn-it!" she swore savagely, reluctantly leaving her eyes uncovered so they would adjust to the light. Once she could see, she glanced around the room and shook her head.

Psyc's pillow was on the floor, the covers thrown back and the balcony door was open with the curtains blowing in a slight breeze.

The idiot went out to the tree last night and fell asleep, Jazz thought, laughing. She dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a tight fitting turtleneck sweater, then out into the tree intent on bringing her friend in and dragging her down to breakfast.

Jazz went as quietly as she could through the branches, wanting to give Psyc as little warning as possible. When she reached the "platform" she stopped, smirking at what she saw. Gambit was asleep sitting with his back against the tree trunk and his arms around a sleeping Psyc, who sat between his legs leaning back against him. The heavy down blanket that was left on the platform wrapped in a waterproof tarp covered them form toe to waist.

"Well, isn't this cute?" she asked aloud. Remy opened his eyes and after a second's confusion, put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh," he told Jazz, who just smirked even more. "Don' wa'e 'er up."

Jazz shook her head. "What would the prof. say if he caught you two out here?" she teased.

Remy smirked. "Da's wha' de rooms are fo'?" he offered.

Jazz laughed and shook her head again. "What were you doing out here anyway?"

Remy shrugged as well as he could without waking the girl in his arms. "Lar'a came ou', Remy followed," he told her, then added, "go ge' Nathan, she sai' she ha' somet'in' t' tell us."

Jazz nodded. "Alright, you wake her up, I'll go get Nate." She turned and retraced her steps. It wasn't hard to find Nathan he was down at breakfast.

Ah, the good ol' days, Jazz thought wistfully, back when breakfast truly existed and I got to eat it! She sighed and decided to get it over with.

"Sorry big guy," she told Nathan with a grin, "but looks like you've got to skip the second course."

Nathan was reaching for the juice pitcher when Jazz grabbed his arm and started to pull him away.

"Hey," Nathan said, looking forlornly over his shoulder. "Why are you pulling me away form my food?"

"Because Psyc has something she want s to tell us and you can always get more later."

* * *

Gambit watched Jazz walk away, and then looked down at Psyc. He wasn't sure how long they had sat there before falling asleep. His back was slightly sore from sitting against the tree, but it wasn't bad. It would have been quite chilly had he been alone in the tree, but with Psyc leaning against him, he was actually quite warm. 

"Lar'a," he said quietly in her ear. "C'mon, 's time t' wa'e up."

The girl groaned and shook her head slightly, moving closer to him and pulling the blanket up over her eyes.

"Uh-uh," she said childishly.

Remy laughed. "Uh-huh," he told her, peeling the blanket away. "Jazz wen' t' ge' Nathan an' yo' nee' t' be awa'e t' tell us what yo' were gon t'."

Psyc sighed and reluctantly pulled away from him. "But…" she looked over her shoulder, showing a playful pout, "but I was comfy."

His response was to pull her back against him. "Remy ne'er sa' yo' 'ad t' ge' up…jus' wa'e up."

Psyc laughed and once again pulled away from him. "I need to get dressed," she reminded him indicating her nighty. "Can you fold up the blanket an I'll be right back?" He nodded and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before heading back to the room. Remy watched her go and shook his head. He couldn't stand I the limited room of the platform without his upper body going into the upper branches, so he folded the blanket while sitting. He tucked it back into the tarp bag and put it in its spot in the upper branches. By the time he was done, Psyc was back. She was dressed similarly to Jazz, only her sweater was red, not black.

"'ow much longer d' yo' t'ink 's gonna ta'e Jazz t' ge' back wid Nathan?" he asked as she sat beside him. She shrugged.

"Not long," she said just as the two others arrived.

"Alright Psyc," Nathan said sullenly without preamble. "What do you have to tell us?" Jazz shoved him playfully.

"Don't mind him," she told Psyc and Remy. "I dragged him way from his meal. But you can tell us your news anyway."

* * *

Psyc looked around and took a deep breath. They weren't going to like what she had to say. "I'm leaving." 

"You're what!" All three of her friends spoke at once.

"I'm leaving." Psyc spoke slowly and clearly so there was no way they could mishear her, "and soon."

"Why?" It was, to her surprise, Nathan who broke the silence.

"There's something I have to do."

"Stop being vague," Jazz said tightly, "and tell us what's going on."

Psyc looked from one person to another, and saw the same determined expression. She sighed knowing they wouldn't let her out of the tree until she explained. "Uncle Nick needs my help…" she started. She told them everything. Remy and Jazz both knew parts of what she told bit now she left nothing out. As she told the tale, the sun drifted lazily across the sky. She had started at a mere hour after sunrise, but by the time she was done, it was well past noon. No one interrupted. They all sat listening as she told her story starting with the day her parents died and ending with the conversation in the graveyard.

"And you trust this guy!" Jazz demanded. "You're going to go running off to your death just because some 'uncle' from your past shows up?" Her voice was tight with the anger Psyc knew she was struggling to control. "Are you so stupid that you think you might own him something?" Psyc could tell by her look that she wanted to continue her rant, but instead she closed her mouth with an audible click as her teeth came together.

"Wai' un minute." Gambit spoke for the first time. "I' dis de same guy dat yo' tol' off fo' comin' 'ere b'fore de break?" Psyc nodded. "Den Remy gotta 'free wid Jazz. Why 'n de worl' yo' wan' t' do 'im any favors?"

"It's not just him," Psyc said trying to stay calm when her friends were so angry. "This guy is virtually collecting kids. It's not adults that are flocking to him, thinking he can protect them, make their lives nice and 'perfect' again. It's kids, people our age and under, and he's exploiting them. He's using their naivety and hope against them to make them thin his way is right and that using their powers for war is the only answer." She lost the battle and rage dripped from her voice though she managed to keep it at a normal volume. "If those kids actually fight for him they will die. They will be viewed as a national, if not global threat and the army will throw every thing they have at them. It'll be a bloodbath."

"'ow d' yo' know da's de army's plan?" Remy asked, skeptical, but no longer dead set against her.

"Because I saw it," Psyc said with a sigh. "I searched Fury's mind to make sure he wasn't bull-shitting me just to get another spy. I may not be able to make them leave, but I can make sure they are prepared."

"So this isn't about Fury or the government," Jazz said, her eyes sparkling now that realization dawned. "It's about kids like us and making sure they have a fighting chance."

Psyc nodded. "He thought he'd got me back. The 'good little soldier' that had trained beside him… he was wrong. All he did was give me the info I needed to try and help a couple idiots out of something way over their heads."

"I'm in," Jazz said without hesitation. Nathan was only a breath behind.

Remy looked from one person to the next. "Yo' all jus' a bunch a do-gooders. Eva t'ink what'll 'appen i' yo' still dere when all dis fightin' star's?"

Jazz shrugged. "We kick some cooperate ass, what else? You comin' to the party or not, Cajun?"

"Yo' t'ink Remy gon' le' 'er," Remy nodded toward Psyc, "ou' o' 'is sigh' af'er wha' 'appened las' time?"

Psyc resisted the urge to throw her arms around them all, but instead just grinned. "Let's get some lunch, then we can start planning our mischief making."

* * *

"What makes you think she'll do it?" Nick Fury's second-in-command asked for the hundredth time. 

"She's John's daughter," Fury said with a smirk, "that's all it'll take."

"It's been over a week, sir," the colonel pointed out. "Perhaps we should start looking for another recruit." The man's suggestion was made pointless as a silent red light started blinking.

Fury's smirk turned to a grin. "That's my girl," he said, almost proudly. "She's been a good soldier since she was born. She won't let us down."

* * *

Please reveiw. Any comments welcome.


	7. Gone Again

Gone Again

The plans went smoothly; there were only two small problems; Sara and Sherry. If they were left behind then who knew how they would react to suddenly finding their replacement parents gone. If the decision was made to take them, then their minds would have to be temporarily wiped of all memories of their time spent with the X-Men and a suitable replacement would have to be inserted. They decided it would just be easier to leave them behind; they could fix any damage done when they got back.

It was hard to act like a normal part of the team when, in a few short days, they would disappear without a trace. Fury had given Psyc a signal to activate if she decided to go. Once activated, it would pick her, and anyone she decided to take with her, up in two days at a pre-set site ten miles away from the institute. Psyc pushed the button and grinned at Jazz. "Two more days…then the fun begins."

"Oh yeah," Jazz said sarcastically. "It'll be a blast. Two more days of playing happy little hero, then I get to play the false spy."

"You know, you don't have to come," Psyc pointed out.

"Right," Jazz scoffed, "And we haven't spent the last seven years as inseparable partners in all our mischief making."

Gambit watched Sherry climb the stairs, heading to bed, and wondered for the millionth time, if they were doing the right thing. Not just in leaving Sara and Sherry behind, but by going at all. If S.H.I.E.L.D. was right, then this could be dangerous. Fighting head on was one thing, but covert operations weren't exactly what they had been rained for. During their brief stint undercover with the F.O.H., Logan had been the main person to actually go to meetings. He and Jazz had simply shown up a time or two for appearances sake.

Worrying now was pointless…they would be picked up at midnight. At ten, the small group headed up the stairs, as usual, the last to "go to sleep." Psyc stopped Gambit in the hall outside her room after Jazz had already gone in.

"You don't have to go," she told him. "You could stay here with Sherry. Make sure she's okay."

He shook his head. "Nice try, Lar'a," he said with a smirk, "Mais, wid yo' track record, Remy t'inks he'll keep yo' in sigh'…jus' in case." Psyc nodded and he kissed her good night, though as she pointed out they'd be seeing each other in less than ten minutes. Nathan was already waiting when Remy closed the bedroom door behind him.

_I still don't like it,_ he thought, checking one last time to make sure that everything he planned on taking was in his trench coat pockets. Remy sighed and Nathan laughed.

"It's your girlfriends plan," he pointed out.

"Oui." Remy smiled ruefully. "Mais, dat don' mean Remy's gotta li'e i'." They went out the window and met the girls.

"Soo…" Jazz was the first to speak. "How're we supposed to get to the pick-up point?"

"Walk," Psyc said simply.

Remy cleared his throat. "C'n yo' all ride bareback?" They nodded. "Den Remy's go' a be'er idea. We ta'e de 'orses an' Jazz sen's dem back t' de stables."

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Jazz laughed as everyone agreed.

The group got to the pick-up point barely on time, and Fury was late.

"Figures," Psyc muttered as the wait seemed to stretch on for hours. "Leave it to Fury to be late to his own pickup point." Time stretched on. At the three-hour mark, Psyc spoke again, raising her voice for all to hear. "We'll give him ten more minutes, if he doesn't show by then, we take off." She dropped down onto the ground and pulled her knees to her chest so she could rest her forehead on them. She was exhausted. Since they had started their preparations, she had slept just enough to stay functional, and now it was starting to show.

She felt Gambit drop down beside her and put his arm around her. "Yo' alrigh' chére?" She nodded and leaned against him, closing her eyes and just relaxing.

Jazz heard it firs, just as they were leaving, the soft _whump_ of helicopter blades. "Well, whadaya know," she said bitterly. "The old coot decided to show." Psyc turned to watch the machine's decent and Jazz tensed. She knew that look in her friend's eyes. She recognized the man that jumped out of the bird and sighed, catching up with Psyc as she strode forward.

"Fury, you maggot sucking son of a bitch! D'you have any idea how long we've been waiting!"

"I see her manners have gone down hill in the past seven years," the woman beside the general said with a sniff. "You trust her?"

Psyc balled her fist and Jazz clamped her hand on the other girl's bicep. _"Smile and make nice," _she hissed._ "We've gotta stick to the plan. Pick your fights more carefully." _Jazz met Psyc's glare until the other girl nodded.

"_Fine, I'll play nice, for now."_ Jazz didn't like the tone in her friend's voice, but released her anyway.

"I trust her," Fury said, smirking. "She's John's. That's all the reason I need. She'll do right by us, just like she always has."

"She's standing right here, you asshole," Psyc snapped and Jazz gritted her teeth. She'd just have to trust her friend knew what she was doing. After all, she grew up with the man. "And she doesn't like being talked about as if she isn't."

"Son of a bitch? Asshole?" Fury laughed. "You sound like your dad when we were off duty."

Psyc shrugged. "Well, I figured I better keep with tradition." She held out her hand, offering a small, shy smile.

_Don't' lay it on too thick, girl,_ Jazz thought.

"_That fool's eating it up faster than a kid with cotton candy,"_ Nathan chuckled in her mind.

"_How would you know what a kid with cotton candy's like?"_ she asked as the general clasped Psyc's hand, and then pulled her into an embrace.

Gambit stood back and watched things unfold just as they'd planned. _De fool actu'lly t'inks Lar'a i' jus' gonna walk back int' 'is c'ntrol. _He watched as Fury embraced his girlfriend and studied the man with more than just his eyes. Remy let his empathy flow out over the group, taking each person in individually.

Jazz was ready to jump in if things went wrong. Nathan was simply bored though his eyes shifted continually from face to face. Larla-Rose was forcing herself to be friendly but her emotions were the same uproar they'd been since her second visit to the cemetery.

As he'd expected, the soldiers were tense, ready to spring if given the command, and seemed to be focusing on Jazz who was closest to their General. The woman, a scientist or doctor if the white lab coat was any kind of clue, was skeptical and slightly suspicious. Finally, he focused in on Fury as the man released Larla-Rose and was surprised at what he found. The man actually cared, there was no regret, but he did care for his "Niece" in his own odd way.

"General." The woman spoke after clearing her throat. "We need to get going. I suggest you two continue this onboard."

"Of course, Jessica," the man said turning to enter the carrier. Gambit almost smiled as Psyc refused to move.

"Two of you?" Psyc repeated staring the woman down.

"Of course. The general and yourself," Jessica said.

Psyc shook her head. "My friends aren't just here to bid me farewell," she snapped and Remy smirked at her barely contained fury. "You were planning on sending some of your people in with me—I don't want them.' Her emerald eyes blazed and Remy barely held in a chuckle. He knew all too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of that stare. "These are the people I trust with my life. They're the ones I want at my back. This is my team. If they don't go…I don't go."

_Bravo, chére. Le' dem know who's boss 'ere,_ Gambit chuckled mentally.

Fury met his niece's determined stare and bit back a smile. _She truly is her father's child, her mother's beauty with none of her soft-spoken nature. She'll take her chosen few, fewer than the average squad even, and no one else._

"Put down your hackles, girl," he told her with the smallest bit of amusement in his voice. "If they're who you want, they're who you get." He jerked his head toward the ramp and the group followed him aboard. "Are you sure you don't want our boy? It'll be his first field work as well."

He heard Larla-Rose stop and turned to face her.

"Now I'm positive," she snapped. "You don't even see fit to give me an actual agent! Instead you try to stick me with some green kid that no doubt wouldn't even be able to keep up with me on the basic training course!"

Fury chuckled. "That's hardly a fair way to judge my agents. I could hardly keep up with you before you 'left' and I suspect you have improved in your seven years on the streets." He smiled as the ramp raised and the helicarrier lifted from the ground. "However, he will by able to 'keep up'. In fact he has beaten your formerly standing record on the advanced core. Of course, that isn't difficult when your speed is measured in mach's is it, Northstar?"

The boy seemed to appear out of nowhere as he stopped beside the general. Fury heard Psyc gasp as the boy said "Hey, Rose!" in a cheerfully superior tone.

Jean-Paul smiled as he ran in circles around the group. He couldn't wait to see the look on his old friend's face when she found out he would be working with her. He wasn't bothered by her outburst that she didn't want whoever it was that Nick was sending with them, she'd change her mind when she found out who it was. He smiled again as Nick told Larla-Rose that the person he was sending with them had beaten her score, that had been the best thing about discovering his powers, he was able to do what no one in years had managed to…beat her time on the training courses. Jean-Paul took a moment to relish the look of shock as he stopped beside his boss.

"Hey Rose!" he said and paused. "I have secrets too, you know. After I thought you died, I took your place with the squad and even before my powers kicked in, I was beating your times. When they did kick in, well, you had no chance."

"Well, Jonny, that's hardly an equal playing field," Psyc teased.

Jean-Paul turned to return to the room he'd been assigned. "So, are you having me or not? Or are you just taking your new friends and forgetting your old?"

Psyc groaned at him. "You know I'd take you. What's the point of something like this without trusted friends and yes, that's what you are."

Jean-Paul scoffed and continued to walk away muttering under his breath. "Prove it."

"_I head that, J.P.,"_ Psyc told him telepathically, using the nickname he preferred. _"If you trained with the squad I know they taught you shielding, so use it unless you want 'paths to pick up on everything."_

"_Pick up on this,"_ he thought bitterly, vividly picturing himself flipping her off as he slammed his bedroom door.

"You feelin' okay?" Jazz asked as a door slammed and Psyc burst into laughter. Psyc nodded.

"_Fine,"_ she projected to the group, unable to speak aloud through her laughter. _"Jean-Paul just flipped me off mentally… 'twas an amusing picture."_

"Oookay… so he's a prat rather than a stuck up brat." Jazz shook her head as Gambit and Nathan chuckled.

"Larla-rose," Fury snapped angrily. "It is not proper to speak telepathically in a group."

"Oh shove it, General." Jazz put a world of scorn in the title. "She's here purely outta some ridiculous loyalty to you and can leave at any given time. You need her, so don't start correcting her when she's screwing off with friends or we're all outta here faster than you can blink."

"I'm disappointed in you, Psyc." He put as much scorn in her codename as Jazz had put in his title. "I thought you were better than that…what would your father say?"

Psyc flinched and Jazz threw out her arm in front of Gambit as Nathan clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Why yo' li'le…D' yo' care 'bou' Lar'a a' all!"

Jazz blinked as Northstar appeared once again beside Fury. "Shut-it cutie," he said coldly. "You have no idea what you are talking about. Vous pouvez être mignon, mais vous êtes encore juste des pièces de rechange."

"Why yo'…" Jazz pressed harder against Gambit's chest to keep him form strangling the other boy.

"No clue what you said, pretty boy," Jazz sneered. "But one more word out of your mouth and I'll let him pound you to dust."

"I've had it!" Psyc pushed her way through the group and slammed the door to her room. _"Tell me when we're ready for the drop!"_ she projected, forcing it through all shields she could.

Jazz flinched a little and Northstar flinched a lot, Fury simply shook his head as a small smile crossed his face before being suppressed.

Nathan spoke for the first time. "I suggest we all adjourn to our rooms and rest before the work begins." Jazz wasn't surprised when everyone listened.

Psyc stared around her at the mess she'd made. It seemed as if Uncle Nick had done his best, or ordered someone else to make the room she'd been assigned look like any other teenage girl's room…and she had done her best to make it reasonable a demolition site. Her breath came in quick shallow gasps as she surveyed the destruction, her mind racing as the last of the feathers floated to the floor. _How dare he throw my father in my face like that!_ She kicked the door and punched it at the same time. _ I showed him, didn't I! All this time and I came back._ She snapped her fingers. _Like that! The audacity of that man! And J.P.! How could he defend Fury!_ She threw the only thing left, a picture of her when she was four on the training course and threw it against the wall where it shattered.

A knock on the door made her turn. "What?" she yelled not bothering to hide her anger. "I said not to bug me until we were ready to drop! And I know we haven't been heli-bound that long! So piss off!"

"Sorry chere," Gambit's familiar voice floated through the door. "Mais yo' know Remy don' follow orders very well." Psyc opened the door and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, using it to pull him inside before she slammed the door shut once again. "'s been a while since Remy's 'ad da' 'appen t' 'im."

"What?" Psyc demanded.

"Bein' pulled int' a room li'e de las' ting de puller wan'ed wa' fo' 'im t' be seen."

"No." She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. "What did you com here for?"

"Since when does Remy nee' a 'scuse t' come see yo'?" Any other time the smile he gave her would have made her heart turn over. Instead she scowled at him. "Alrigh'…" He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Remy wa' worried 'bou' yo'." Psyc's response was to hit the wall again. She clenched and unclenched her fist as he looked around the room. "Remy li'es wha' yo've done wid de place." He chuckled briefly until he caught her eye.

"Do you really want to patronize me right now, Remy LeBeau?" Psyc lashed out verbally, her green eyes flashed angrily. "Because I would love a reason to pound someone, but I'd rather it not be you."

"G' 'head." She knew he was purposely taunting her. "Swing 'way. Un goo' punch shoul' do yo' a worl' o' goo'." Even knowing he was needling her she took the swing, he didn't even try to duck and hit the bed as a consequence.

Remy pushed himself up on his forearms, forcing a smile through the slight throbbing in his jaw. "Yo' know…dere are plen'y o' much nicer, an' pleasan'er, ways t' ge' Remy int' yo' be'."

Psyc glared at him. "And you'll be lucky if you're ever in my bed again," Psyc practically snarled as she grabbed the front of his shirt and tried to pull him up off the bed.

Remy knew that he could have resisted Psyc, but chose to cooperate and go where she wanted. As Psyc opened the door to her room, Remy realized where he was going and resisted, a little too late. "Chere, yo' don' really wan' t'…"

"Yes," she interrupted. "I do." She pushed him out the door, slamming it behind him. Remy stumbled backwards running, literally, into Northstar. The other boy chuckled as Remy righted himself.

"She threw you out? Literally threw you out?" He raised an eyebrow as Remy glared. "So…does that mean you two as an item are officially over?"

If he hadn't had his empathy locked tightly behind shields, Remy might have caught Jean-Paul's meaning; instead he slammed the other boy against the wall. "Yo' c'n try t' ge' wid 'er pret'y boy….a'Remy'll blow yo' apar'."

Jean-Paul smirked, puzzling Remy. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of touching Rose, mon ami. She's not my type." Remy released the other boy as his meaning sank in.

"No' in yo' wildes' dreams." Remy's voice held a world of menace. Northstar didn't even flinch…just continued to smirk.

"Care to find out what my wildest dreams are?"

Remy clenched his hand into a fist, then turned and stormed away. _Lar'a won' li'e i' if Remy pummels 'er frien' beyon' recognition._

Jean-Paul smiled as he watched Gambit storm away. He slowly let out the breath he'd been holding and, learning from Gambit's mistake, decided to postpone his visit with Larla-Rose. He turned to go back to his room and found himself facing Nick Fury. He jumped.

"You startled me, sir," he offered in explanation.

Fur smiled. " You don't need to explain things to me, Jean-Paul." He jerked his head down the hall and Jean-Paul fell into step with him. "Watch yourself," Fury said after an extended silence. "Larla-Rose may be willing to trust you, but her friend will most likely take time."

"I understand." Jean-Paul's mind was only half on what his "boss" was saying.

"Don't get distracted." Northstar flinched at Fury's subtle rebuke. "And remember…she may be your friend, but your job is still to watch her and make sure she's still with us."

For what seemed the hundredth time, Jean-Paul came to Rose's defense. " How could you doubt her? You said more times than I can count that she was one of the biggest-"

"I know what I said!" Fury snapped, "but she's been away seven years…we have to be careful."

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" Jean-Paul barely managed to keep from screaming at the man. "This is Rose we're talking about!"

"Jean-Paul-"

"No!" Jean-Paul about faced and stomped off, throwing over his shoulder, "I don't want to hear it! She's still Rose…no matter what!"

Jazz stared at the ceiling, hands clasped behind her head, as she stretched out on the bed. Someone rapped hard twice on the door before it was opened. "Are we ready to drop?" she asked, not bothering to look at the person who had entered.

"No, almost, but you have to change before we get there." Jazz heard something hit the floor before the door closed behind the exiting soldier.

Jazz turned to look at the clothing on the floor and groaned. They were nothing but rags. She ad Psyc had dressed in better when they had actually lived on the streets. Sighing she picked up the shirt, gave it one more disgusted look, and changed. She barely had the tattered windbreaker zipped when Psyc's voice sounded in her head.

"_C'mon Jazz." _Psyc still sounded pissed. _"Time to get our 'orders' and get the hell off of this floating monstrosity."_ Jazz tucked her amusement with the situation as deep in her mind as she could to keep Psyc from seeing it.

They weren't surprised to see that the briefing room was a bland grey with a steel table and chairs. Psyc sat scowling at everyone as Remy reserved his glares for Northstar. Nathan and the General had yet to arrive.

"Well, aren't you all just a party waiting to happen?" Jazz said, coldly sarcastically.

Psyc snorted. "Oh yeah, a real bash." Northstar smiled a little and Remy's scowl depended. Jazz laughed and took a seat, propping her feet up on the table while they waited.

General Fury started talking as soon as he entered the room, Nathan right behind him. "I'm glad to see you're all changed into the clothing we supplied." Everyone but Nathan glared at him and he smiled. "Don't worry, Magneto will give you proper cloths when you get there. All his recruits are given a wardrobe that consists of several copies of a chosen 'uniform'.

"Your back story is simple, and I trust that all of you have sufficient training to keep the truth hidden. You are all refugees from Genosha, an island nation that is infamous for its suppression of mutants. We are going to drop you in the Pacific approximately ten miles outside of the Savage Lands sensors. Since none of you look particularly ragged, especially nutrition wise, we put together a large raft like you would be able to build with the resources available to unknown mutants on Genosha that would be big enough to hold you four and enough provisions so that you would just be running low as you approach. Do not discard the empty containers, they are the 'proof' that you had the provisions." Fury pause to look around the room and Jazz faked a yawn. "Larla-Rose and Jean-Paul have been fully briefed on what is required for this mission. The last thing to do before we drop you is make you look like you came from a not so good home and were on the sea for some time." His smile was slightly evil in Jazzes opinion and she knew she wasn't going to like what he had to say next. "We're going to make your hair uneven your hair, rub in some dirt, and douse you in salt water then dry you repeatedly so you get the nice grainy-briny look and smell about you." Jazz groaned in unison with Psyc and Jean-Paul as the group stood.

"_We didn't even let ourselves get that bad when we still lived on the street'"_ Psyc grumbled in Jazzes mind. Jazz nodded mentally.

"_You're the one that wanted to play the good little soldier."_ Jazz laughed as Psyc mentally flipped her off.

Despite the nervousness inspired by Fury's continued reference to "dropping" them, Remy found himself thinking he would have preferred to have been literally dropped into the waves. The raft was, in fact, huge, it still looked like a classic Tom Sawyer raft, but was big enough to have a tent set up on it with room left to lounge outside it even with the amount of empty provision containers they had been supplied with. He had been shocked to see it even had a large metal square (3ft square) that could be used to build a fire on and a container full of chopped wood and tinder.

The raft had put him at ease about the time they were to spend actually on the water but now he was trying to keep down his lunch. He stood in one corner of the raft, clinging to the rope as the raft swung violently beneath the helicopter as it lowered them to the sea.

9


End file.
